Sometimes

Sometimes its just not wise to open the closet and confront your ghosts. I was the kind of kid who ran away from the dark. I used to try to rationalize this by saying that it was only stupid of me to believe in witches and vampires, and that I would not belittle myself further or my intelligence for that matter, by actually looking around to prove that I was not superstitious. The truth, however, was far from that. I did not look around because I was actually terrified of angering my ghosts with my audacity. More than that, I was afraid to face my worst fears and realize that they were true.

Even as I know now, that the right thing would have been to march right up to the dark bedroom closet and satisfy myself by finding it empty, I don't. I want to believe that "its all in my head". I want to believe it with all my might. Even if it means that I have to dig a hole in the sand and stick my head into it. The lie might not save me, but it makes me brave. And sometimes, the strength borrowed from a lie is all it takes to keep you going, until that one fine day when you are finally ready to open the door to confront the truth.