Bubbles

I'm still going on my philosophical binge. Not that anyone much cares, but that's perfectly alright with me, I rather enjoy this!
The older I get, the more I feel that I have lived in a nearly impenatrable bubble, and that now, that bubble is ready to burst. There are so many pressures on that puny little bubble: music, school, friends, surviving in the real world without my parents. Having lived in this bubble all my life, seeing these near intrusions is a step beyond terrifying. Sometimes, I yearn to reach out and pop the bubble from the inside, but then, a face is twisted hideously by the beautiful dome of my home, and I strink away again, prepared to sit in my bubble for a while longer.
In a way, this always saddens me. From the right angle, I am able to see the beauty and wonder of life outside the bubble, but when a pressure blows against my bubble, the world shifts, and everything is distorted once more, leaving me uncertain that the beauty I had seen just moments before truly exists.
Now, the bubble is floating higher, up into a clear blue sky, leaving me reaching for the ground. I see so many things sliding by as others emerge from their bubbles. But fear easily keeps me inside mine as the higher I go, the farther the distance I may fall. The fear always seems to precede my actions, the fear that I will fall and be unable to get up after falling from such a great height. If I wait much longer, I may never be allowed to leave this home that could so easily become a prison or a death-trap, but even as I tell myself this repeatedly, I continue to shrink away.
I watch the others as they break free of these beautiful, floating homes; I see their joy as they meet the world below, and see that I truly haven't anything to fear. But I continue to worry. What if I am not strong enough? In my bubble, I barely have room to stretch now, my limbs are weak- what if I'm not even strong enough to burst the bubble? And if I do, then what then? Will just as wonderful a life be waiting for me down on the ground as I have seen through these gossamer walls?
For the time being, the choice is mine, whether to emerge or withdraw into the shadows. Very soon, however, the choice will be forever outside of my control, and I'll be at the mercy of all the pressures on my life, hoping that they will leave my delicate little bubble free to float its way and not burst through the walls I must believe are safe and that they wil not send me free-falling down to what could be death or joy.