Sometimes I find myself crying.

Crying for the girl all those months ago, who fell so hard. The girl who thought she’d finally found happiness, and convinced herself that it wasn’t temporary. Who put her pride aside for the first time in her life, opened herself up to someone. She became vulnerable. That girl was so confused, and yet so happy. Like the naïve person she was, she ignored her doubts and just lived, for the first time in her life. Since she was a little girl, she couldn’t stand being left alone, and yet willingly she put herself in a situation that could only end one way. But as I said, this girl was naïve.

I cry for this girl not because I miss how happy she was, but because she has changed. I cry for what she went through, realizing there really was no other pain worse than a hole in her chest. I cry because she is now more guarded than ever, believing it is strength when it is in fact weakness. And finally, I cry because she knows this, deep down, but will never admit to it.

Why should she?

Why should she fall so hard, find temporary happiness, become vulnerable and confused, all over again? Why should she live without fear when she knows there is something to be feared? Why should she willingly put herself in a situation that could only end one way? She is no longer naïve.

And that is why I find myself crying.