When she's gone, I shake my head at myself and head off to my room. I slam my fist into the wall on the way up, locking my door and grabbing my secret stash. Taking the whole bag, I climb up to the roof and light the first cigarette I pick out.
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
You know that place between sleep and awake, that place where you still remember dreaming? That’s where I’ll always love you. That’s where I’ll be waiting. — J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan