Why am I so wary of the world? I don’t trust anything, anyone. I feel so distant, so detached. And so, so tired. Tired of expecting to be hurt. Tired of carrying on when I _do_ get hurt. Tired of being tired. Tired of not caring enough to save myself. I don’t want to see tomorrow, Because I already know it’ll be exhausting and painful. Since when was I this wary? Since when did I expect hurt around every corner? What happened to the innocent girl who saw “tomorrow” as a synonym for “hope”? What happened to the girl who saw the brightest future? And more importantly: Where did the girl who wants to give up so badly come from?