Black

So I've read the after-life, which ever way you want to put it, described as a black comforting void. A void so big that it holds within itself everything. Never the less, it is a darkness (and, as it was written, a light both at once. But for me, I'm concentrating on the black part. Why? It will all unvail itself). I am trying to take comfort in this description, but how can someone who for the last twenty six-and a half- years has been deathly afraid of the dark, find comfort in darkness being the answer to the ultimate question? If darkness will bring me the purest of love, as it has before I arrived here, then why am I so uncomfortable with the dark, even for the brief moment as you shut off the lights in your bedroom, before your eyes adjust to the moonlight breaking through the curtain, when all you feel is darkness. I can't handle even that brief moment. How can I accept that for eternity? If this darkness gave me peace before, what makes me so afraid of it now. What has happened in this darkness? Was it really peace? If that was true, wouldn't I secretly enjoy the dark, without even understanding why, instead of being so damn uneasy? Wouldn't I retreat, for some strange reason, into a dark cave any time I needed to feel warm? How can I accept it? A person who is afraid of the dark.