Sure, she may be a rather needy person, and seems to be much weaker than the majority of us, and is in fact, very much more dependant on others too, but...
Have you ever wondered, why has she experienced so much more than us? And why has she gone through so much that she seems to be the one here who matures the quickest? And yet, deep down, she is still the same old, naive little girl we all once knew. The purity in her heart will never change, it seems. No matter how many times it has been broken, it just fixes back again after some time. And she will be all up and happy once again.
Is this people call strength?
Because if it is, then strength is definitely lacking in me.
Because I do not even have the courage to try to go through what she had.
To try and feel what she had felt.
To even think about doing what she had done.
I'm just a chicken!
Ah, reality. How ironic can you be.
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