In went the cassette. The old woman had bleached blonde hair and lipstick right inside the smiling lines. She hit play with a nail painted scandalously red.

"Remember to take notes, girls!"

Pens hit paper inside pink notebooks. There are crosses on them, glammed up with fake rhinestones worthy of prostitutes. Five thirteen and fourteen year olds just starting to come into the prime of Knowing It All.

The cassette plays. An old man drones out at us, low and methodical. Verbal morphine. His words drip with euphemisms. I can picture him hunched over his desk at a bible college as he writes his script. His skin is wrinkled. His hands are shaking. His chapped lips curl up at the corners as he revels in his wisdom.

"You are a sacred gift."

"A perfect bride."

"A holy vessel."

His smile grows wider. Page after page is filled with it, his mantras, his tried and tested words. If he could still get it up he'd feel uncomfortable in his tight black suit. The thought of it arouses him. Makes him feel young again. He'll shape so many young virgins for so many young men. They'll be awkward and frightened and clueless. They'll expect nothing and nothing will be given to them.

"Your bodies are temples that musn't be sullied."

Don't fuck anyone.

"The more you explore, the less special it will be."

Don't fuck anyone.

"Every kiss you give is a kiss stolen from your husband."

Don't fuck anyone.

He unconsciously grinds his hips. The writing gets a little sloppier. The tip of his tongue pokes out between his white, perfect dentures. Finally he looks up at us over the speakers on either end of the boom-box. His smile is so wide and brilliant. He looks so grandfatherly and sweet as he tells me that if I let myself be defiled I am

"Worthless."

I am

"A whore."

I am

"Unworthy."

He thrusts into the mahogany. Ecstasy. His typewriter quivers as his desk violently jolts. He taps the papers together and staples my newfound phobia. He leans over and bequeaths it to me, his tie askew, his eyes piercing. I rip open my ribs and put his words there. I slip them inside and close myself off. He looks on with approval and a sagely nod as he locks the chastity belt in place and pats my cheek. All of my worth protected under lock and key.

"You are your virtue."

I am reduced to what lies between my still-growing legs.

The cassette stops playing. The blonde ejects it and stows it away from the next group, patting it lovingly.

"Now girls," she says, eyes twinkling. "What did we learn today?"

I feel inclined to begin this by saying this happens to be one of those things I'm not sure I really want to share-- and not just because it's about my biggest fear, it's also quite personally-intimate.

I don't do intimacy very well, outside of writing.

I suppose then, it's a good thing I'll be writing this and not speaking it to a live audience, and yes, I'm stalling.

You see, before I name my fear, I think you must understand a few things first.

For one, I'm a virgin. I've never had sex with anyone-- not out of lack of opportunity or offers but, rather because of a lack of passion and desire genuine to my heart. You see, my Pisces heart wont settle for anything less than a deeper-than-physical connection.

It's that heart which brings me to point number two, when I do have sex, I don't want there to be any barriers, physical or otherwise, so I have no interest in having condoms in the equation. I want the whole experience, right down to the planting of seed at the climax of pleasure.

If the thought didn't cross your mind already, yes my "biggest fear part 1" is pregnancy the first time I have sex. The modern mind no doubt wants to tell me to just take birth control pills or use spermicide... but not only am I against long-term consumption of big-company pharmaceuticals, they're not guaranteed to work.

I love children, I love helping people evolve in ways that bring the most peace into their lives-- yet the idea of getting pregnant and having a child of my own, so unexpectedly, absolutely terrifies me. It scares me to the point I've considered buying a small supply of "the morning after pill" to ensure no pregnancy will take despite the strong will of deeply rooted, long unsated passions.

Assuming I could get past that fear, there's the second part of it that can be summed up by three letters: S.

                           T.

                               D.

Imagining myself having found a man (or woman, not likely but I wont discount the possibility) whom I'm undoubtedly going to have sex with... how the hell do I bring up STD's in conversation?

"Before we do this, I need to know, when was the last time you where tested for STD's? Can I see the paperwork?"

Or maybe..

"You ever had sex with someone who has an STD?"

I've thought of nearly a hundred ways to broach the subject and none of them sound anything less than insulting.

If I don't get confirmation and I go through with it only to discover he was a clever disingenuine bastard who played my buttons perfectly, leaving behind a scar that can't be mended or scrubbed clean, I'd be devastated. 

I'd be the queen of Lost Virginity Horror stories.

"Quickie in a hotel? Prom fuck-n-dump? Backseat blunder? Required his fingers to pop your cherry? Damn, those are shity experiences... oh me? I got H.I.V."

I can see who-ever I'm telling already leaning away from me like they can get it by proximity. I know because I've met a guy with the disease and witnessed the way people kept their distance. Like sitting next to him on a couch would be too great a risk. As if talking to him would make him too much of a human to ignore the way they wanted because it made it easier to avoid risk of contamination. 

I would literally be tainted for life.

Twisted as it may read my fear isn't in the STD's themselves, it's in the infection of one with the void of a soulmate/companion still present.

Is life not hard enough?

I admit that I allow my fears to keep me from any active consideration or "looking" as it were, about as much as other priorities in my life simply seem more important. I've accepted the possibility is there, yet I for all the creative-analytical power of my mind, I can't seem to fathom a plausible reality, so the fears remain at rest with my virtue and sexuality.

|| another_proser ||

My greatest fear is that I would wake up to find that I turned into myself without any shelf life left.

I found myself looking for an expiration date and only found in great big red letters stamped on the inside of my brain that read: "EXPIRED BY DEFAULT".

In default that I had forgotten that I had a original thought of my own and left them on my front porch all alone

In my mind I would see my front swing setting on my front porch swinging in the wind looking dilapidated and empty with a great big red letters reading: "EXPIRED BY DEFAULT". I heard him whisper in the wind: "with no default of my own I am vacant because my owner expired by default that he had forgotten who he was when he had no original thought of his own".

I am terrified of wasting my life away. Anxiety, depression, and insecurities are all but a few of the things that hold me back.

I am scared that I'm wasting my life away, here in this too-tight-a-bubble of a comfort zone. It leaves little room for experience.

All the opportunities and chances wasted, simply because I was uncomfortable with trying something new- being judged, mocked, ridiculed.

I need some confidence.

I've blamed my depression on these things. And I've tried to fix it. I joined the color guard team, becoming the first 'male' on the team in my schools' history. That's a big feat, but why go I feel like I'm still worthless? Wasteful and useless?

I wish I wasn't afraid of taking chances.

To have lived life for naught

to leave no mark

showing I’ve been here

to not have time

to rectify mistakes

but the biggest fear

is living life

without you

your warm embraces

your warped sense of humor

the way you laugh

with complete abandon

watching silly comedies

holding your sides

as you belly laugh

no holds barred

your need to learn

and grow and interact

and watch the birds

of life careening

across your vision

I want to hold you to me

never let you go

erase the pain

from your existence

I am very afraid

but blessed

to have you

for as long

as you are there.

Your talks were not always tender. But, the love you gave will always be remembered. Something special about this particular one. It was a beautiful day because you were unusually gentle with your words. Asking, "Carmen, what is it you fear most?"

It hit me like a brick. The words to my answer thick in my throat. Instead tears began to flow. All I've ever known began to flow freely from me. As if releasing a weight too heavy to bare. Yet, I'd never known it was there. Not until I let go.

"You, I began to say as I wiped my tears back, "Not living up to your expectations. Yeah, it's always been you Mom. I want to make you proud."

Moms been gone now a little over a year and I've found I have another fear.

Will I see Mom again once It's my time to leave here? 

Tequila has always been my favorite drink. It's my truth serum and my emotional cleanser, bringing me to tears.

Tonight is the first time in months that I've decided to resort to her ways... So tonight I live my fear.... Worshipping the porcelain goddess.

My head is spinning as I think of what I have eaten today. ("Did I have any 'breads' that could absorb some of this alcohol??")

We playfully sing to the tunes on YouTube...

Let's have another round of shots!!!

Oh geez... My stomach is requesting either food or abstinence while my drunken, happy estate says, "one more shot wont hurt".

My head spins, the room spins, my eyes are spinning... My face is numb. My body is numb, even my brain is numb.

All my thoughts are directed to my biggest fear.... "Oh gawd!" " I hope I don't puke!"

Shadows stream into the room, pooling in the corners. Tendrils reach across the floor toward me, fading away as they approach the light. All is silent. No creaks, no footsteps, no wind, no life. Something flickers in the corner of my eye; I turn my head to see an empty room. There's nothing here. I am alone, but still the hair on my neck rises of its own accord as if something is watching. Was it always this cold in here, or did the temperature just drop?

But most important of all...

What happens if I turn off the light?

Made with love, you three are the living embodiment of us two. Think I'd die without any one of you.

Mother, I learn as I grow older, I'll never stop needing you. Nobody will love me like my mother. I adore you and that a friendship has grown between us.

Partner and Love, you teach me by example about true love, constantly. To allow me to take another into my heart, shows how big yours is. Your happiness is important to me too.

New Love, terrified of losing you; of hearing the words, "this is the last time we can see each other". We connect on another level. And bringing me there, is a specialty of yours.

My biggest fear is being without you.

"Love."

I am.

Afraid.

A hopeless romantic.

Fearing love.

My contradiction.

Isolates.

Safer than.

The risk.

Guaranteed loss.

Avoidable?

Questionable.

But death.

Undeniable.

Or human condition.

Will destroy.

If not ruined.

Desires control.

Mistakes.

Kill.

And the odds.

Hover.

Indefinitely.

But.

In love.

Its power.

Realized.

An atom bomb.

Consumes.

With love ascending.

Alluring fear.

Awakened spirits.

Adrenaline rushing.

Deeper.

Into beauty.

Overwhelming.

Medusa affect.

Obsession.

Painful hunger.

Fed.

And need.

Transformed from want.

Beyond comprehension.

Emotional drive.

A wildfire.

After lifelong droughts.

Undefinable.

Sans return.

Uncontrollable fall.

Powerless.

Ecstasy floats.

It feels so good.

Chemical high.

Intoxicating logic.

Reason exiled.

Elucidating.

Without words.

Dreams disclosed.

Failures welcomed.

Intellectual joust.

Consciousness dancing.

Familiarity.

An old friend.

Finding home.

Transcending passion.

Autoscopic view.

Art.

Belonging.

Trued safety.

Celestial travel.

Engulfed connection.

Speechless.

And palpable.

Earth shattering.

Reclusive shelter.

Swaddled.

In blissful harmony.

Acceptance answered.

Telepathic.

Understanding.

Flesh tingling.

Gut bubbling.

Celebration.

Souls burst.

Climactic expression.

Ruptured.

Massacred.

Stolen.

Lost.

And my heart.

Breaks.

Into darkness.

No, thank you.