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?