The dread

Sometimes I get this feeling inside my stomach. If I could draw (which I cannot), I'd draw all my stomach contents (probably not a pretty sight) into one big knot. It's a feeling of dread which I cannot explain, because I never know the reason why. And it scares me. Because instead of looking to the future I look to the past. I have a nasty habit of doing this, always going to the past, trying to figure out my ancestry, where I came from, why I don't look like anybody else. And of course there's the nastier past. I have always been aware that somewhere sometime in my life something big would be happening. And it wasn't going to be a nice big kind of thing. And of course I cannot tell the future because I'm lacking a crystal ball, but it still was there. I remember listening to the news when young, and feeling so sorry about some tragedy or other. And in a selfish kind of way I never thought about the dead by tragedy person, but about the ones left behind. Always. And it filled me with dread, as young as 8 years old. The feeling stuck there, and I was driving at 18 when I again used to hear the news and think about the ones left behind, and ask the question... when is it going to be my time? It was my time soon enough, although I never ever banked on having such a cruel time. So that was that. And although statistically speaking I shouldn't have another one, I still keep asking, when do I have seconds? Too much is too big about me, and I'm so scared tragedy will be one of them. I don't want to have to make my way through the thorny entangled bush yet another time. It's way too soon. And way too cruel. Of course I won't die, I will live to tell the tale because that is what I seem to be good at. But I still don't want whatever it is to happen. Guess I should pray to the Gods. But I prayed to the Gods before, I was so certain nothing like that would ever happen, because God knew I couldn't possibly handle it, and God, who knows it all, also doesn't give us more than we can handle. Either God didn't know anything, or else He trusted me way too much. Yet, I emerged, not a stronger person, I am still moved by silly things. I emerged perhaps a battered person who didn't give up, nothing more. But, how much battering can a human being take? My fear is that it's a lot for the chosen ones. Of course I'd never get chosen for a lottery win. I'm not being pessimistic, it's how it is. Will I get chosen again? I hope not, but then why is there the same feeling of dread all over? Fat chance of getting any sleep. Because just to rub more coarse salt into the wound, this is one Leo who won't be sleeping tonight.