And This Is Me; This Is Us

Now the next verse.

It needs to be about us. Together.

There are far too many special memories to just choose one. My mind flashes with different memories. The first time I went to your favourite place

‘Where are we going?’ I wined loudly.

‘Shush. You’ll wake the neighbours,’ you say, dogging my question.

‘Tell me. Or I’ll shout louder,’

‘No you won’t. We’re nearly there, this way,’ you said, pointing me in the right direction, as you hopped out of the truck.

We walked in silence for a while. I still had no idea where we were going, but I knew you wouldn’t tell me. You had that look that you got when you weren’t going to be swayed. A couple minutes later, we arrived at the spot.

There was something about that place, it was strangely beautiful. It shouldn’t have been anything special, just a clearing with some dried up streams. But there was something magic about it.

We stayed there, for a while, and then wordlessly made our way back to your truck. 2 A.M and I am perfectly happy, with you next to me.

the next two lines;

Take me back to the creek beds we turned up
Two A.M. riding in your truck and all I need is you next to me

Now I need something sad. Just so its not overly-happy and cheesy.

‘No, Okay,’ you shout, ‘Just no,’

‘What?’

‘Look Mary. There is no way I’m staying here when you're like this,’

‘Like what, exactly?’ I shout, losing the temper I had just seconds before regained.

‘Like that.’ You yell, slamming the front door as you walked out with your over night bag. I heard the engine of your truck start and I slumped on to the stairs, weeping.

I look at the words written on my page:

Take me back to the time we had our very first fight
The slamming of doors instead of kissing goodnight
You stayed outside till the morning light
Oh my my my my