Fears

Mr Now made a lovely dinner last night which we ate on top of two empty tubs covered with a table cloth that I have been dying to use since I bought it 6 years ago. It was fun.
He was a little distant, which makes me nervous, but this time, instead of letting my fears eat me up inside, I mentioned them. How he responds is up to him. I think mentioning things once should be enough, I won't harp on it. at least not out loud.
Discussion came up about ghosts and stuff. I am relieved to find out that he is interested in learing more about my otherworldly experiences instead of just thinking I am strange. I never knew how most people saw that stuff until my friend made a comment about it once.
I used to tease my ex, "C", about his facination with aliens or, how he puts it "visitors". Not a lot, but I did. Now I know this was hippocritial of me because I too believe in things that are often percieved rather than seen. And even he will admit that the visitors may not come from outerspace, but rather from earth, just not usually perceieved.Anyway, I made a comment about his visitors, and my friend said something to the effect of "now you know how I feel when you start telling your ghost stories" humbling to say the least, this has stuck with me. I never realized she felt that way, and I stopped teasing "C".
But Mr Now wants to hear more, and even wants to go searching through my mom's house to see if a particularly difficult and angry spirit may have hidden something of mine in the attic. There is still so much we have to learn about each other. I fear that I will put him on a pedistal or make him my knight in shiny armor. I fear that he will dissapoint me by turning out to be a toad. I fear that I am not all I am cracked up to be. I fear that, not just in his eyes, but in my own and that of the world. I fear to be comfortable anywhere because the other shoe tends to drop, and drop hard.
Do all people live in constant fear of things seen and unseen? Am I strong because I get up and face the world every day, even though it is such a scary place? Or does that just make me normal? I want to be more than normal. what is normal? does everyone strive to be special? To change the world for the better and make a difference? I know I am not out there lobbying for human rights and the environment. Is it enough that I try to live my life with loving kindness and that I try to spread joy in the lives of others? In the light of all my issues, does the real me shine through?