Dark Places.

When I was little, I was afraid of the dark.

As I got older I grew out of it. I learned that the scary shadows that resembled monsters (or scary babysitters, or...clowns...or Jon Bon Jovi) were actually just shadows. Light shining down on objects in my room and casting shadows. The odd thing was that the light forming the shadows that scared the hell out of me came from the hallway light that my mom left on for me. Funny how that works out. Irony, yes? Yes.

Well... I'm in the dark again. I feel like a six year old, laying in bed alone, scared to death of the light casting shadows on ordinary objects. 32-years-old going on six.

I'm not used to it. I don't like it. I don't like uncertainty. I don't like being scared. I'm a grown woman, right? I'm thirty two years old.

I'm in a dark place. And I'm too scared to ask someone to turn the light on.