So I was the young sort.
The immature but intelligent, lighthearted but controlled sort.
I thought I knew who I was, where I was, what I was doing.
But **** happened.
Smiling got harder and solitude seemed easier.
I'm 20 years older and 100 pounds heavier
though physically I haven't changed.
It's hard to carry on the same sort of conversations;
hard not to answer every statement with
    Haha, you don't know what worry means-
    You don't know what pain feels like-
    You don't know how intense loneliness can really be-
The thoughts weigh me down. All I do is think.
I have nothing left but my mind and my mind, me.
Carefree is a privilege.