Young, Loud And Scotty
it's been seven years since i had my first chance to kiss you. i remember that night on the beach when i wanted to fold you into myself and never let anything hurt you again. and look at us now. we still talk but never like we used to. we have different friends and different lives and only rarely do we cross paths in neutral territory. we became the type of friends we thought we'd never have - we see each other occasionally and speak only somewhat more frequently. i wish i could say it's because we each have separate lives to lead, but that's only half true. you have a life - you have a lover, a job and friends. i have a collection of rooms filled with the remnants of the person i used to be. you have roots and reasons to stay. i'm in the middle of a drought and filled a notebook with reasons to leave this city behind. i used to feel younger here. the sun warmed my heart and i could look straight ahead with eyes wide open. now i only remember walking down streets in the rain and trying to keep my cigarette lit. the streets used to welcome me with sunlight each afternoon as i rode my bike. now they seem cold and unforgiving, distant and uninterested. i can feel the seasons changing in my bones. i can feel that it's time to leave.