I really hate seeing anything pierce through skin. Of course, I date a medical resident who loves watching videos of anything gross. And he does surgery 4 or 5 times a day. But even when I get blood drawn, I don’t care about the pain–just don’t let me see it. Like in the first episode of LOST when Kate has to sew Jack’s arm–ew!
My biggest fear, then, would be having to pierce myself somehow. I know–this is more of a selfish fear, but it’s still scary.
I fear death in general. Everyone does, don’t they?
I haven’t had any close calls with death or anyone close to me die yet. I just don’t like it. It scares me, the idea of not having someone there anymore, not existing.
Recently, we moved into a new house. We talked to our neighbor a handful of times. And then just a few weeks ago, I came home from work and the cops were there and a white van was outside her house. They think it might have been . . . it’s just sad.
And sometimes, now, I’ll look over at her house–and there’s a light on.