(no subject)

You know what they say about things that don't kill you.

I guess it's true. All I know is that I've known fear. I've felt horrified panic, the kind that quickly and easily cripples a person. I've closed my eyes in the face of what I thought was certain death.

But it wasn't. Not for me, anyway.

I don't ever want to know those feelings again. That sheer, helpless terror I got when I realized that there was nothing left that I could do for the plane, for the other women, for myself.

I'm not scared of leaving this place whenever I'm finally able to, even if I'm not looking forward to it. I'm not afraid of the men with guns I seem to keep befriending here. I'm not afraid of Todd, even if what Meg hints at is true. Wary, yes, but not scared. Maybe that's reckless of me. Maybe it's not wise. Still, it's how things are.

I think my greatest fear is just feeling that fear again, the kind I felt before the crash. The powerless, doomed kind.

That's why I asked Spike to teach me to use a gun. It's why I agreed to try my hand at Todd's rifle. It's why I'm willing to learn a whole lot of different things. It's also, in part, why I read whatever I can. None of this is just because I like to learn, though I must admit that I do; it's because I'd like to be as prepared as possible for whatever life may throw at me next.

Because I still think I am alive. And I know from experience that some of life's surprises are much better than others.