The Lines on my Screen Scare Me

I’m afraid I’m not the strong person I thought I was.
That now there’s some rain on my back, I’m thinking more of letting go than learning to swim.
Swimming is good. It keeps you fit. You could have a good career!
But how much pounding can my back take?
Will I emerge a pro-swimmer, a jaded swimmer; the strokes and glides all mechanical?
I’m really afraid that I can’t swim. That I’m not smart enough to learn. I’ve tried.
That if I don’t get out now, I’ll drown.
I’m afraid that my parents will be disappointed if I get out.
I’m afraid everyone will be disappointed if I get out.
I’m scared that I care.
I’m scared.
This exhaustion scares me.
This slippery slide into ennui and stoniness.
I’m afraid that I might have made a mistake.
Too big to be fixed.
Too many years and hopes late.
I’m afraid and I’m scared and I’m exhausted.