Well, nothing is ever easy. Some things just aren't supposed to work out the way you planned them, or thought they'd go. There's always something that you hadn't anticipated waiting to ruin all you strived for, all you so badly wanted. They'd tell you to just learn to expect things like this, to expect the bumps and cracks along the old bike-trail, but you don't know any better. You're still young, and yet old; you've seen alot from those once innocent eyes, that aren't quite so innocent anymore. They'd tell you you've seen too much for one your age, and you don't know any better, you've only seen as much as they've let you. They'd yell and they'd fight, not really thinking of you at the moment, not caring that you were upset over the noise, the raised tones of anger. They'd later tell you everything was alright, and you don't know any better, you just believe them, because you're too young to know the differance. How many times had he not been there when you went to bed, and how many times did she cry alone? How many times would he come in very late, and yell at her until he could yell no more? How many times did you hear her scream at him, words you didn't quite understand? Nothing is ever easy, and perhaps you have grown up too fast, seen too much, and have vague memories that plague your dreams. They'd still tell you it's alright now, and you'd love to believe them, but now you know that it's not alright, and it wasn't alright. Now you know better, and it's never easy.