Ana-log No. 6 (January, February and March)

By the look of me, you would never guess how scared I am. But believe me when I say- I am petrified. I am scared of everything wrong under the sun. I am scared that I’ll wake up one morning and find myself at loss of words, hollow, singular lover gasping for air in Marengo fog infused room. I am scared that I’ll forget who I am.