It's true, I've been a coward almost all my life. But not always. I was beaten pretty badly by a bully when I was four years old. After that, I was afraid of everything and everyone. I tried, when I was older, to be unafraid, but it didn't take. The truth is, I don't want to hurt people. But I do, by not living enough or loving enough. My worst fears in life have been realised. I've lost homes, possessions, and people. Now I'm older and in a wheelchair. I was too afraid to stand up to grown up bullies. Or worse, too afraid to stand up for myself. Old age, however, is a gift. To live a long life means to have survived many things. I've been shot at; knifed; set on fire. A car came to a screeching halt two inches from my head. I've clung to roots on the side of a steep cliff. I've pushed away people I love for fear of being hurt. Now, belatedly, I have one mission- letting people know they are loved. Maybe not by me, though I've lowered by standards remarkably, but by someone. And if that someone can't be found, it's important to be your own best friend. The rest falls in place. I did stand up to my bully, eight years later, a forced and false bravado. But I did confront him, each of us alone. I saw fear in his eyes, and I let him go. I can't say I walked away, because I wouldn't turn my back to him. But that day I knew, at least, what I didn't want to be.