I went to a creepy house yesterday to run an errand for my husband. I didn't know if someone would be home. As I drove up a secluded street the house was at the end of a drive surrounded by trees. It was a quiet neighborhood. I looked for the thing I needed to pick up but didn't see it on the porch. The front door was wide open or perhaps there wasn't even a door, it was hard to tell.

I've been thinking about things that are safe, unsafe, and dangerous. Both physically and with my heart in relationships. I have categorized much of the safe as unsafe. I am still working through why I believe this, why I am hesitant to trust. I have had a good, safe life. I feel like I'm a chronic sexual abuse victim or something, but that's a very small part of my story. 

When I drove up to this house and looked around, immediately the "dangerous" signals went off. I didn't want to go 10 feet from the front door. I was convinced a man would jump me and drag me into the basement and rape me. I didn't want to think about what would happen to my kids.

I called my husband and told him I didn't see the thing I needed to get and that I didn't want to look around. He talked me into opening the garage and finding it, which I did. I felt that "flight" response in which I just wanted to run fast and far. 

Irrational? Maybe.

Revealing about how I see safe/unsafe/dangerous? Definitely