(You're gonna have to change. I sure hope you know that. You can't live forever in Neverland, Peter. Life is made to be lived, and you're only playing around with it.)
I wish I could say I love you. And maybe I do. But not all the time. We have our pretty moments, we have our everlasting promises. What we don't have, and I'm sure you didn't realize yet, is a future together. You're half empty. I'm way too full. I'm not trying to say that I'm better than you, 'cause I'm not. I just have better hopes, bigger plans, bitter feelings.
As for the moments, the really bad ones, the ones that make me despise you, I hope they go away. If we can't have a future, I hope at least for a pretty present. Maybe I'm been too hard on you. But with your silly unthoughtful words you're hard on me too. You hurt me. I can't hide that. You hurt me for not being who I want you to.
(You're gonna have go grow, Pan. Maybe I will be way too far away when it happens, but I'll be happy for knowing it did, anyway. I want you, but we don't always get what we want.
And that, by the way, was what you just told to me on the phone.)
