My entry is written in an attempt to communicate that there is no sense of intimacy like showing someone the places where you grew up. Taking someone you love, or someone you think you could love, to the place where all your greatest tragedies and triumphs took place, and still remain, is painfully honest and dangerously revealing. This is the way the speaker decides who to love; decide who to spend their life with: those who understand their hometown, and understand that though it’s boring and cold, and there is nothing to do, it is still the most goddamn important place in the world. This is important as it’s a very soft, subtle way of dealing with such a large emotion like love. The poem, I believe, communicates that youth and childhood are like open wounds, and letting your partner into them is a risk. Rare, are the ones that do not unknowingly pour salt into those wounds, so when you find one that understands, understands that there is a vulnerability in returning home, it is precious, true, and honest.