There is something called a deep-rooted, deep-seated fear. People fear huge things, gigantically, scary and really truly mortifying things. I just read Shantaram and I realized that there are a lot of fears which I haven't seen, which I haven't experienced.
Yet after last December, some kind of a fear has taken root in me, deep within me. It was just a robbery, just an encounter with the pilferist, but it has settled in me. And I hate it.
Now everytime, I hear a knock, some movement unwarranted, something amiss, it feels like something has clutched my belly with deep sharp claws. It's bloody scary and irritating. Because, I hate being intimidated by anything, especially by something that is done and over with. I hate looking up the stairs, everytime I insert my key in the lock, and I hate feeling scared when I hear that my mom is alone at home. I hate double checking every lock, every door, every sound and everything in the house when I am alone. I hate not feeling safe in my own cocoon, the only home I have ever known in my life. Its frustrating.
I love this house, even though I know that I wont live here my entire life, I love this place. Understandable. And from this same love arises this hate. And want. I want to be able to feel safe and secure again. To stride nonchanantly into my home and feel at ease. I want my home back.