The 18th of August 1953 – Jackson Hole, Wyoming

Robbie,

You’re not going to understand unless you’ve been there. You’re just not going to understand, see?

Maybe you will. Maybe you’ve been there. Maybe you were next to me the whole time, and I didn’t even know it.

If I tried to put it – the place, where I’ve been – if I put it into writing, the page would just be black. It would just be black, maybe because it’d be filled with words upon words running into words upon words, maybe because it’d just be so damn empty.

See, there is a place, and you can believe it or not. I found it, at least inside of me. I found it, so it has to be there. See, there is a place where nothing exists. I wish I could say that I just happened upon it, but I actually went out searching if you can believe it.

I mean that too. Nothing. Nothing exists.

There’s no ego, no love. There’s no pain, no evil or good. There’s no pleasure or joy, no happiness or hate. There’s no light, not even enough to see the dark. There’s nothing. Nothing.

And to be in this place is to vacillate, bounce chaotically and uncontrolled, between two states: serene peace and crushing dread. The nothing can elevate you. The nothing can destroy you.

I didn’t get out until I saw you. Then I felt something, finally, for once.

When I saw you, I saw a light, a tangible light. It wasn’t too bright or overpowering, and it flickered like a candle at times, to be honest. But it was something, and it was something that I could grab and hold.

It was something that I could want, something I wanted to want. You don’t know how great it is to want, to crave and to need. You don’t know how warm it is to want.

You might not understand that. You shouldn’t. So try. Or don’t.

And I keep asking myself. I keep telling myself. So what if it’s bullshit. So what if it’s not true. So what if I’m just making it all up, if that candle’s just a damn mirage.

I’m in love with you. Head over heels. That’s it.

There’s nothing you can do about it. There’s nothing I can do about it. So it’s just it.

-Trixie

PS – I meant it the other day, the whole, entire thing. I wanted, I needed to make one last gesture, big and romantic, not to win you back but just to show you what you are.

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