Everyone wants an Argentina. A place where the slate is wiped clean.
But the truth is, Argentina ... is just Argentina.
No matter where we go, we take ourselves and our damage with us.
So is home the place we run to or is it the place we run from... Only to hide out in places where we're accepted, unconditionally. Places that feel more like home to us...
Because we can finally be who we are.
Love can be inconvenient, perhaps inappropriate. It can be dangerous. Make us do things we wouldn't dream of doing.
That just depends on where we end up,