Notes: This is from ROGER'S point of view. Letters to Marky! :D

Chapter 6 – Melpomene (tragedy)

Roger's POV

I trace the pattern of the motel sheets
And wish it were the lines of your palm

Dear Mark,

Santa Fe is lonely. No matter how many times I come here I never get over the fact that I hate it, no matter how much I really do want to stay away.

Maybe I should have fallen in love with you. Life could be easier. More confusing, but easier. And that's my idea of logic for you.

I know you'll be shocked when you get this. I send postcards with one sentence on them. I'm horrible at communication on any level, we all know that. But you deserve more than that, I think. Because I know I'm horrible to you. And I know I could never say any of this to you.

I'm staying in the same place I did the first time, I have a job and a motel room. Life sucks. I just want to see you again, you know? The alcohol is getting to me because this is getting sappy, but I can't help it.

I can't afford AZT down here, Mark. It costs a lot more when you buy it legally. I don't want to go back, but I think I'll die in another few months here because I have no incentive to live and nothing keeping me alive. Someone offered me smack yesterday, someone I work with. Like, 'hey, want to go get high later? I've got an extra needle.'

You'll kill me, but I told him I'd think about it.

I'll write again.

Roger

Dear Mark,

I can't live without her. What life do I have without Mimi, Mark? Who do I have? I would have died that Christmas if I hadn't met her, you know?

I'm sorry I always unload this shit on you, but I guess you should be glad I'm talking.

Do you remember April, Mark? Do you remember how much I loved her? It doesn't hurt worse than finding her soaked in her own blood, but it hurts differently. I wanted to drive my car into a tree when I driving here. I can't stand it any longer.

If I came back could we move to Amsterdam and get stoned? I promise I won't cause trouble if you just keep me baked. I think I need you to take care of me. I'm incapable of doing it myself.

Roger

Dear Mark,

Have you not written me back because you haven't gotten any of them or are you too mad at me to care? All I can think about is how I don't know anyone here.

I'm lonely already, you know? But the motel room makes it worse. It's so impersonal. Anyone could live here, and so many people already did. Fucking here is even worse. I've slept with a couple girls since I've been here and each time it gets worse. They could be anyone, and it makes me feel like I'm anyone. I have no identity here. Fuck, I want to see you.

I think I'm going to come back. Will you still let me in?

I write like a girl.

Roger