I was on 29th street running away. Running from the one solid thing in my life and now I stand here in a McDonald's with the cash register lady asking me if I wanted my vegetarian fries to here or for go? I think she meant for here or to go, but we've all had a long days. I wondered for here? do I really want to eat here? I look around and it smells like shit, the people in here look like hell, the tiles are shining with their fresh clean look like two lovers who have just met (I can’t do it), and the lights are too bright. I started to become weaker. To go? Where would I go? If I had ordered the fries 20 minutes earlier I wouldn’t have thought twice about whether it was "to here or for go" because I had a place to "for go." But now after he kills himself and us I realize that to here is my only option left. And that to go anywhere would be pointless when your mind resides in unpleasant amounts of confusion, and despite everybody in McDonald’s sheer loneliness. I loved him he loved me. Wait what's love, though? If I don’t know what it is.. Right that mean I “never” loved him. He raped me. Nah not really but he raped my one soul of an organ beating heart. And then threw it in the gutter, the same one all of the others are in. He said yah you’re pretty much the one for me, yah we were only 17. We made love to Kings of Leon in the dark, while high as a bird and thrived on love. His hips touched mine, my lips quivered. "Mam! to here or for go?!" I had been dazed for a good time holding up the now busy McDonalds "For go" I mean "To go please." Yah I left that town.