Winter’s age wasn’t the problem to me. I didn’t even see it. The crime was I couldn’t tell her who I was. And the crime was she didn’t love me back. Her heart was so shallow, she couldn’t understand and know that I was real. Every moment with her, I was real. I would’ve been faithful, and I would’ve died protecting her. As soon as she knew, though, she cut me out. It was over. That quickly, she hated me, her fickle heart abandoning me and completely forgetting it all.
