i heard it all. i know how you lied. i know, i know. i think the way you grew up so fast is something that makes me love you the way i do. it makes me feel like no matter what you really are something special. i feel as if no one in the whole world has it as bad as you. i feel guilty for putting all my anger and pain into you. i feel bad for poisoning you, while you're so young. i understand the fact that things are hard, people cry and then they stand up, dry there faces and pretend it never happened. they let the one person know all their secrets and let themselves put down their guard. they're sad and stupid and they sob and yell. but in the morning, they'll wake up from their nightmares, put on their clothes and drive their cars to the offices they've worked in for 20 years, making just enough to get by. and pretend like they're content. as if they've never cried so hard they went silent and they use every bit of self control left in them to not quit their jobs and runaway. they act like the perfect people their supposed to be. work five to nine. feed their kids and go to sleep. they sleep next to their wives who they no longer know, they don't talk anymore. date night come's and goes every tuesday night, but their too tired to get dressed up, too tired to rekindle the love they once had as highschool sweethearts, too tired to try anymore. but of course, the world forgives the criminal, but never the dreamer.

those girls will grow up. marry the boys they've always known. the people will learn and talk. the words of this town will be passed around same as they've always been. when we leave here, time will go on. we don't need to come back. people don't care about you as much as you think they do. boys grow up, they'll drink their wine, dream the dreams their fathers left behind.