Women... They think they’re so delicate, so special. But all I see is chaos wrapped in pretty words. They come into your life, twist everything around, then leave you with nothing. It’s always the same—playing their games, pretending to care, then turning cold when it suits them. I don’t trust them. Never did. They’re the root of all the trouble, always stirring things up just to watch everything burn. And I’m tired of pretending it’s different. They’re just trouble.