I am excited about slipping out of my hot sticky clothes, so that my skin can directly feel the cool air.
I am excited about meeting David Byrne.
I am excited about dreaming in Italian.
I am excited about running for so long that my cheeks get all red and my heart throbs in every part of my body.
I am excited about jumping out of an airplane, freefalling through the air before the 'chute is pulled.
I am excited about flushing zucchero from my veins.
I am excited about showing the cobblestone street and pink marble to Phoebe.
I am excited about seeing my tunnel of light.
I am excited about blabbing the secret to her, if she would ever be able to hear it.
I am excited about my 15 minutes of fame.
I am excited about breaking his heart.
I am excited about jumping over the language hurdles when Italian clicks in my brain.
I am excited about shaving my head, if I ever get the courage.
I am excited about you, if I ever meet you.

* * *

I am afraid of losing control.
I am afraid of receding into a place of solitude.
I am afraid of extending into intimacy.
I am afraid of stretching the boundaries.
I am afraid of those grey bugs that curl up into little balls when you touch them.
I am afraid of farting in public.
I am afraid of catching a germ that my immune system can't handle.
I am afraid of running into Steve somewhere in the world.
I am afraid of someone sneaking a peek into my diary.
I am afraid of an embarrassing miscommunication in Italian.
I am afraid of those fashion no-no's that maybe I just never learned.
I am afraid of unconsciously lapsing into conformity.
I am afraid of McDonald's creeping into every city across the globe.
I am afraid of unearthing those memories that I don't want to remember.
I am afraid of faked orgasms.

I am excited about overcoming some of my fears.