I said the scared bit

Wednesday night. The bus home from the bookshop. My chest does the thing two stops early. I let it. I get off and walk the rest. That's what I do now. I walk.

I called Kate from the bus stop on Calvert Avenue. I said, I'm scared, Ol. She said, I know.

Two minutes. That was it. I said the thing I turn into a joke so no one knows it's real. I said it real. Out loud. To a person.

Cadogan Hall tomorrow. Six hundred seats. Funny man from Manchester, big room in Chelsea. I would joke about this to seem like I don't care. I care. I'm scared and I just told my mate on a dark street corner.

The honesty is the scary bit. Not the room. The room I can do. It's the taking the joke off and letting people see me without it. That's the door and I have to walk through it.