I’m standing in the doorway of the darkest room I’ve ever seen. It’s so dark, I can’t even see it. I’m afraid of the dark. Still, as an adult, I’m afraid of the dark. Not that it’s dark, but because of what it does to everything around. It blinds me, closes my eyes, when I should be able to see my hand in front of my face. I don’t know, when I can’t see, what’s inside the darkness. If I step in, I’m in. And even if a light goes on and pours over everything newly around me, I still stepped in without knowing anything and there I’ll be.