The night after I did acid for the first time I was scared I was going to drive into the ocean. But that wasn’t the ocean, I realized. These were salt flats. There is no ocean in Utah. And neither are there casinos (oh thank god! Those lights were gonna be the death of me!)

I was afraid to touch you when I saw you, but only a little bit. I didn’t, like, think you were going to disappear or anything. It’s just that I could only have one drink because we needed to drop Rich off at the airport. And then those salt flats! Jesus!

I slept till well past 2 the next day. And I woke up with marbles in my mouth, knowing that anything I said would probably mean something. So I told you how much I had been looking forward to seeing you. I don’t know whether you believed me or not, but you smiled and so did I. And, for a while, we kept it that way. I remember because I wasn’t on acid anymore. I wasn’t in San Francisco anymore and I didn’t have to watch my language. I could watch basketball. And I did, until you nearly tore off my pinkey trying to get me to come to bed. I didn’t.

I didn’t get to say goodbye the way I wanted to. By the time we were in Wyoming, Chris told me I could have if I wanted to. He wouldn’t have minded. But it was too late to turn around. Denver and Philly needed to be thoroughly ignored and we were short on time. We bought a new tire and I tried to remember your face. I knew there were mountains there. But I like to remember desert. Cartoons are better when they’re set in the desert.

I didn’t get to say goodbye at all, really. And I never wanted to. It’s just, when you have that much gas in your car, you have to use it somehow.