My worst fear is success.

And no, I haven't mistaken it for failure. In fact, failure does seem a much better option to me. Sounds strange? Maybe insane? I know. But let me tell a few things about myself first, then I think you will be able to grasp the whole matter afterwards.

My father was an ordinary man, and my mother was an ordinary woman, but this wasn't the only similarity they had. They were both kind, both caring, and when it came to education, neither of them had had a proper one.

"Then why do you insist that my siblings and I go to school?" I asked.

And their answer was, "because we don't want you to repeat our mistakes."

But apparently my two siblings had no qualms about repeating them; they both dropped out of high school, claiming that education wasn't their thing. I, on the other hand…let's just say that it was mine.

My grades were always excellent. My brain was always ready to know more. I was good at pretty much everything I did, not just at school, but outside it as well. So my parents became more than proud of me. Actually, I think I was the favorite child. And guess what? I enjoyed every moment of it. It was just so good to receive all that praise and all that admiration. It was just so good to hear everyone speak fondly of me. It was just so good to be successful.

Then something has recently happened. What exactly, I have no idea; but I like to say that I grew up (better late than never). I started to see things from a different perspective, a better perspective, and the conceited little prat I believe I was in the past began to shrink in comparison to the new me. Everything became clear, as though a cloud of mist was magically lifted off my eyes, and after that nothing remained the same. Not even myself.

I want you to imagine spending your whole life in what you thought was a dream that turned out to be a dreadful nightmare in the end. That's exactly what happened to me. I spent my whole life in love with success, but this infatuation has come to an end.

Now success is nothing to me but a burden on my shoulders. And by a burden I don't mean it's something I ought to do but for some reason I don't think I can. No, it's more like something I can do but for some reason shouldn't have done. Precisely like a crime, and to be honest, it makes me feel as much guilt as if it were actually one. Because deep inside, my conscience convinces me that by succeeding, I'm saving my neck and leaving everybody behind. It convinces me that I am not worth it. And it keeps asking me questions I have yet to answer. And lately, I have been asking myself the same questions too.

So I always wonder why I get to lead a comfortable life, when the rest of my family have got to struggle.

I always wonder why I have enough money to buy luxuries like jewelry or expensive clothes, when the rest of my family can't even afford their essential needs.

I always wonder why I was good, why I was better, why I was the best, when the rest of my family stayed the same.

I don't deserve what I have. And I don't think that the rest of my family deserve what they have either. So I want my last success to be not succeeding, and only then, I'm sure, I'll feel much better.