Even the best relationships can cause anxiety.

This is her story.

My thoughts continue to race.

I saw swirls of blue, green, black, and shades in between. I see bubbles with pieces that seem to make up a zebra.

A glossy eye stares at me. But why is there only one?

I saw broken promises and shattered relationships. I see a fuzzy but bright future.

Bits of the past and flashes of the future flit around in my head.  Why does this seem like deja vu?

With deep breaths and some focus, my thoughts begin to calm.

The flickering flame of a candle and the image of a chicken remind me of a time long gone, yet still visible on the expansive Texas horizon.

The curve where his neck and shoulder meet reminds me that I always have a soft, safe place to land.

"But will that always be there? No, it won't. It'll be gone someday. You just remember that nothing lasts forever," says a small, creaky voice.

"This is my forever," I whisper to myself. "This is my fairy tale. I know it."

"Or do you?" croaks the voice. "Heed my words."

If that voice were the witches from Macbeth, I might heed those words. But it's not. It's the voice of a still-scared and jaded younger woman who trusts no one. Or is it a cynical, older voice who trusts no one?

Does it really matter?

That's what anxiety does to me. That creaky voice tries to take hold and ruin everything. It doesn't get to win this time around.

This is my fairy tale, dammit.