“I would have gone too but I wanted to come straight back to you.I kept thinking of you, waiting here, all by yourself, not knowing what was going to happen.”

“What I've started I must finish. I've gone too far to turn back. Regardless of what may happen, I have to go forward.”

“I don't know what day it is, I had to check the paperI don't know the city but it isn't homeYou say I'm lucky to love something that loves meBut I don't as I could be wherever I roamAll this time we were waiting for each otherAll this time I was waiting for youGot all these words, can't waste them on anotherSo I'm straight in a straight line running back to youAll this time we were waiting for each otherAll this time I was waiting for youGot all this love, can't waste it on anotherSo I'm straight in a straight line running back to youStraight in a straight line running back to you”

“Why? I mean, how could you know? I don’t understand.” “Nothing to understand. There is no great mystery in friendship. You brought yourself here, just as I brought myself here to wait for you. I don’t even mind that you’ve kept me waiting.”

“I kept waiting for that loneliness and nervousness to make me want to go back. But it never did.”

“I feel like I’m waiting here. Waiting for something that hasn’t happened yet. Something that isn’t yet. But that’s all I feel and nothing else. I don’t know if I even exist. And then someone flips a switch and the light is gone, the room is gone, the weightlessness is gone. I want to ask to wait, because I wasn’t finished yet, but I don’t have a chance. There is no gentle pulling. No coaxing. No choice. I’m wrenched out. Yanked, as if my head is being snapped back. I’m in the dark and everything is pain. There are too many sensations at once. Every nerve ending is on fire. Like the shock of being born. And then, there are flashes of everything. Color, voices, machines, harsh words. The pain doesn’t flash. The pain is constant, steady, never-ending. It’s the only thing I know. I don’t want to be awake anymore.”