This is about as beautiful as it gets. You're about as beautiful as it gets. In your skinny jeans, with your beard and mass of dark hair. With you beaten up Converse and your trusting eyes. (Don't trust me, I might break you.) It's like you should belong to a different part of my life. My hair was still red then, but I wrote a lot of really bad poetry and met the man who became one of the great loves of my life. I find rest in that thought, but then you look at me like that, just like that, and I suddenly don't know right from wrong, yesteryear from today, or tomorrow. You pick up your guitar, you play on and you shine so brightly that I have to look away, because you're a star and I can't risk putting you out. I can't risk your heart.
William Fitzsimmons – Passion Play
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