Letting go

She peered through her darkened sunglasses.
Hiding the light out, but not the cold, she shuddered as she wiped
condensation from the lenses.
"open up," he'd told her, "just do it."
Did she believe in herself that much to overcome doubt and discouragement and fear?
A man she respected once told her, "You'll never be anything without me."
She feared she believed that.
She didn't want to let go, but she was so afraid of holding on.
What is waiting around the corner?
What treasures or disasters fear her presence?
"Who is going to love you?" He'd asked her.
"Me." she replied, and walked away.