If I am afraid of breaking my laptop, then I may leave it at home, and it will be as if I didn't have a laptop.
If I am afraid of losing faith, then I may closely follow the dictates of the church. I will be keeping the church's faith, but not mine.
If I am afraid of losing my children, they may have to run away from me to be free to grow into adults.
If I am afraid of losing my inner child, then I might not expose it to the world, and so my inner child will never live. I will just be a box, a mask of what the world expects from me, that shelters and cages the Me that would like to live.
If I am afraid of losing you, then I may get obsessed with preserving the beautiful image I have of you. I may stop seeing, experiencing you as you live, think, grow. I may become afraid of your depth, of your being different each day, of your being alive. I may end up with cherishing a perfect image of you in my head, while you will have become a stranger to me.
I am really asking when I can accept answers.
I am really living when I can accept myself.
I am really loving when I can accept you.