All that trying turned into hoping, and all that doing turned into wishing. She couldn’t see the point of putting herself out there anymore. so she decided she’d wait for someone to come and find the point for her, or simply to come and find her. These days, she feels like she is always waiting for someone or something to sweep her of her feet and change her life. But perhaps she has been waiting for too long, that every time someone or something comes along, she is suspicious.

Does he really like me? Am I assuming too much?

She embraces her suspicions, cling to them tightly, because it is the only way she knows how to hold on to herself. If she expects very little and doesn’t risk too much, maybe it will be harder for the world to hurt her. These days, she is content writing her stories, where nothing is perfect but at least everything makes sense. These days, she is content admiring someone from afar. She is content imagining various scenarios in which they would meet, various twists and turns that could lead to a sort of happy ending.