When we were children, we used to think that when we grew up, we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability. To be alive is to be vulnerable.
Deep in the meadow, hidden far away
A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray
Forget your woes and let your troubles lay
And when it’s morning again, they’ll wash away
Here it’s safe, here it’s warm
Here the daisies guard you from every harm
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true
Here is the place where I love you.
— Suzanne Collins (The Hunger Games)