"You're missing everything I've said. Romeo and Juliet don't live to the end Marta. One of us will die and with the way the country is shifting that someone is going to be me. You don't understand the fear I've lived with since Hitler started coming into power. You saw those flyers. The way those peopled saluted him. The words the called my people and then laughed about it. If I set foot outside with you hanging onto my arm I'll be the one beaten. I'll be the one lying on the pavement while you stand there horrified at what a man is capable of. You find these good things in life and you run with it. You've never had to look over your shoulder every couple of seconds because some guy wants to be tough in front of his friends. We are nothing more than parasites. I'm not placing you on a pedestal, Marta. You were born on one. I am to grovel at your feet and beg for you to let me live. You and everyone that believes in what you do hold all the cards," Ezra was talking so fast he wasn't sure if she even understood a word he was saying, but when the words began to flow he couldn't stop them.

"You think we'll grow old together and that what we feel will keep us alive. You don't know what it's like to lay on the pavement and feel life slipping away from. There's no bright light Marta. There's just pain and blood and darkness. You hear the people but you can't respond. Your heart begins to slow down to a point where they're positive you won't make it to the hospital. Your mother is screaming your name, but you can't even be bothered to open your eyes. Breathing gets harder and the more you try to suck in air the worse you feel. The puddle of blood soaks your clothes and you can still hear those laughs. People rip your shirt open to see where the damage is all at. The swastika carved into your chest like you'd carve your lovers initials into a tree. You don't ever have to feel like that. Like in the blink of an eye everything you are and will ever be slipping away."

He was starting to become angry. He stood up and walked to the counter the phone was sitting and held it up to her. She needed to leave. It was time for her to go back to reality. They would never share more than a kiss and maybe he'd get to hold her hand, but he'd never tell her again that he loved her or could love her. He would keep it a secret and make her hate him. She would come to see him and he would be stuck with the desire to take her to his bed, but the urge for her to live and to love another would keep him from doing it. He would yearn for her, but he wouldn't allow her to do the same.