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Draft Entry #6: You Are What You Seek
‘You’re so cautious now.’
My friend struck a nerve with that one. I can’t say it didn’t bother me. I have to admit that I’m not quite the adventure-seeker I dreamed of becoming. The track record is clear: time and again I’ve settled for comfort and security over uncertainty and risk. Bottom line, I’ve talked a big game and not delivered. Fear has kept me in a tight cocoon.
The question is: what am I going to do about it?
Chapter Fourteen
‘Ready?’
Roman showed up on time, looking smart in a black T-shirt and jeans. He smelled good, too. Samantha was a mess – tank top, shorts, flip-flops, hair piled on top of her head. She stepped aside to let him in. ‘Absolutely. Just give me a minute.’
He strode past her and paused at the entry of the sitting room, taking in her mini office set-up: laptop, journals, the camera that she wouldn’t take with her on tonight’s outing, the candle and the crystals.
‘Were you busy?’ he asked.
‘I was working on a blog post. You know … the blog that exists only in my head.’
‘“The Hidden Path” …’
‘Uh huh.’
‘It exists in your computer hard drive. That’s a start.’ He approached the coffee table and pointed to the stones: tiger’s eye and citrine, for motivation and creativity, plus her favourite pink quartz. ‘And what’s all this?’
‘Those keep me productive.’
‘May I see your work?’
That simple request sent her spiralling. She crossed the room and slammed the laptop shut. ‘Absolutely not!’
Roman took a seat on the couch. His gaze swept over her and she just knew he was about to say something devastatingly accurate. ‘You’re afraid of letting people see your work. That’s why you haven’t published yet.’
‘It’s not ready,’ she said, defensive, ignoring the fact that she’d just written a post about conquering her fears.
‘People will have to read it.’
‘I’m aware of that.’
‘Why not start with me?’
‘You’ll make fun of it.’
A crease deepened between his brows. ‘I won’t.’
‘All right.’ She clutched the laptop to her chest and plopped down on the coffee table, facing him, her legs crossed between his parted knees. ‘Tell me one thing that scares you.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘You want to read my private thoughts. You need to share something with me.’
‘You scare me.’
‘I’m serious, Roman.’
