Elope with me Miss Private and we’ll sail around the world

I will be your Ferdinand and you my wayward girl

How many nights of talking in hotel rooms can you take?

How many nights of limping round on pagan holidays?

Oh elope with me in private and we’ll set something ablaze

A trail for the devil to erase San Francisco’s calling us, the Giants and Mets will play

Piazza, New York catcher, are you straight or are you gay?

We hung about the stadium, we’ve got no place to stay

We hung about the tenderloin and tenderly you tell

About the saddest book you ever readIt always makes you cry

The statue’s crying too and well he may.

I love you I’ve a drowning grip on your adoring face

I love you my responsibility has found a place

Beside you and strong warnings in the guise of gentle words

Come wave upon me from the family why not that's absurd

“You’ll take care of her, I know it, you will do a better job”

Maybe, but not what she deserves

Elope with me Miss Private and we’ll drink ourselves awake

We’ll taste the coffee houses and award certificates

A privy seal to keep the feel of 1960's style

We’ll comment on the decor and we’ll help the passer by

And at dusk when work is over we’ll continue the debate

In a borrowed bedroom virginal and spare

The catcher hits for .318 and catches every day

The pitcher puts religion first and rests on holidays

He goes into cathedrals and lies prostrate on the floor

He knows the drink affects his speed he’s praying for a doorway

Back into the life he wants and the confession of the bench

Life outside a diamond is a wrench

I wish that you were here with me to pass the dull weekend

I know it wouldn’t come to love, my heroine pretend

A lady stepping from the songs we love until this day

You’d settle for an epitaph like “Walk Away, Renee”

The sun upon the roof in winter will draw you out like a flower

Meet you at the statue in an hour

Meet you at the statue in an hour

I'm running out of ways of running away.
And it seems to be problematic.
Every time someone has to say goodbye,
Even if it's just a short term, "See ya later"
I freak.
I stutter, I stammer, I lose my ability to speak.
I usually give a quick hug (injuring me and the other person in the process) Fail to hear exactly what the departing person is saying, And turn and run. And I never look back. Never. I hate saying goodbye. It is such a terrible term. How is "bye" ever good? It isn't! It means the end! Case closed, class dismissed, over and out! I hate endings! I sleep with books for months after I finish reading them, hoping that somehow, more words will appear, telling me what happens next. I mean, just because there are no more chapters doesn't mean the story is over, right? There has to be more! I can't handle the term "no more". And I dread the words "you're out of time". It's so... resolute. So definite. So sure of itself. I never look back, because if I do, I will want to start over. I will want to stop the person from leaving, and hold another conversation with them, which only makes it harder, because I will have to say goodbye again! There is no way out! It's a vicious circle! Everything is a goodbye! And it sucks. It truely does. But, they say that every ending is just a new begining. Yes, it is. And it gives us more chances to say goodbye. But, as it seems, people are catching onto my weakness. They stop me from running. They grab my hand and yank me back, holding me close. Is it because you truely think I'm crazy? I swear, I'm not. Just afraid. Afraid of losing you. Yes, whoever you are, whoever is reading this, I am afraid of losing you. Of never seeing you again. Of being left alone. So, here's the deal. My one and only request. If you plan on being a passing ship in the night; on leaving at any time; let me run away from your goodbye. But if not, tell me so. And mean it. Because if I can trust you, I know that it'll be okay. And I will have nothing to run from. -Ash.

FINALLY!!!!!!!!!!!
Summer is here.
God, this year sucked.
It was just misadventure after misadventure,
Heartbreak after heartbreak.
Nothing worked out,
Nothing came together.
Everything fell apart.
People left,
Relationships were destroyed,
Things changed.
Things ended.
But you know what?
Who cares?
None of that matters anymore.
The past is the past, and the present is now.
And it just so happens to be presently summer.
Everyone knows that magic happens in summer.
Im ready for some magic.
I need some magic.
I have a shot at something that could be great.
And I am not going to screw it up this time.
Because the past is gone,
And Ill never get it back.
Never get him back.
Time to move on.
And thats exactly what summer means.