I'm dying here before your eyes inside of darkened circles. I'm afraid of savage things I fought to keep away before. I found out just what I found out I knew you'd become. Now you know the things I'm running from. And you can help me hide in the places I once lived and lost the one. Now you know the things I'm running from. You're killing me, kid. But I know your intentions are good. I read what you wrote out, asked me to slow down, I should. I think you're trying to make it seem. Like it never could have meant enough. But what I'm hearing you say is that you're running away because it meant too much. So this isn't easy. I know the weather in Melbourne is best. San Francisco got cold as I read your note walking Van Ness to Oak. You said "I guess I'll be home soon, but things will be different I'm sure." So I thought that you should know if things are going to change when you come home... Maybe this time don't.