Civil

This isn't a game we're playing, you know? No one wins, and only I lose. So I'm not interested in being civil when what we're really going for is a melodramatic anti-reunion that's going to confuse us both. I only want what's real, what's sure. Gambling never was my thing. Especially not when it's my heart on the line.

Rainy

I'm hiding. I'm hiding from you because I'm scared. Scared of what I might regret. Scared of what I shouldn't want. Just so frightened of so many things, and tired of all the rest. All the games, all the pretenses. Isn't it stupid for us to go on like this? You know, it doesn't have to be all sunshine and rainbows. We don't have to pretend. I like it when it's rainy out. There's nothing like a storm.

Tradition

I want to believe him. I want to believe him so badly it hurts. And I'm already bleeding. That's my tradition, isn't it? Cut myself off at the knees, rip out my heart with my own bare hands. It's what I do, it's how I live. I take those risks, and I get hurt. But I keep on going, because I want to believe.

Hurl

Every time I think I've got it down, I realize that you're always going to have your hold on me. I can push and pull and run and hide, and I do, Lord knows I do, I try. But there's nothing to keep me from coming back, coming back to you. There's nothing I can do, not when you hurl everything you've got out there. And even though it's not at me, I see it, I see what you can do and who you are and all these things I wish I didn't recognize or want or think that I need. All these things that keep me here, keep me tied to you.

Frosting

A revolution is near, but it always has been, hasn't it dear? They say we can do anything, but then why can't I melt through the walls of ice you've built up? The windows of my little house are frosting, and I'm exhaling puffs of cold air. I don't feel safe here; I don't feel warm. What happened to the heat from your fingers and your smile? What happened to the comfort we created in each other? What happened to everything I held dear? Maybe it's me. Or maybe it's denial.