Somebody told me once: "If you can't get someone out of your head, maybe they were meant to be there." But I wish you could see her face, when she looks at me and knows there's someone else, someone I could never forget, someone she could never even come close to replacing, someone I'm killing myself over. It's funny, you came in like an infection. Back in the first days we met, I could push you to the back of my mind and think about my future without you popping up; but now, there's not a minute I don't think about you. Hell, now, you are my future. I plan my life around those two or three weeks I'll be seeing you. Well, I guess those weeks basically are my life, because I'm not alive in Texas.

I was such a dreamer, such a stupid fucking dreamer. I haven't had a dream since 1963 that wasn't about you. I used to dream about that sweet life, you know. I told you about it once: a cow and calf operation, just you and me. I used to dream that one day you would leave your wife to be with me. Then when she divorced you, I dreamed about you leaving with me for that sweet life. I don't dream about it no more, though. I can't even imagine a world in which I'm not sneaking off to see you. Now, I dream that you'll stay an extra day, an extra hour, an extra minute or that you'll finally tell me you love me. I dream that you will hold a conversation with me in front of other people. Simple dreams, really, but they get me by when I'm not with you.

I tried to quit you. I really did. You remember that one time? I was late by one day. You were all ready there, told me you had thought about leaving. I said, that Lureen came down with something and I got a late start. It was bullshit. I had unpacked all my stuff and sat in my study for the entire night, drinking and crying. Then I sobered up enough to drive, packed all my stuff up again and left.

You don't know how many times I've told myself, "This is the last time you're driving your sorry ass sixteen hours for a couple of quick fucks and a goodbye kiss. This is the last time you're driving back to your pitiful life wondering why the hell he won't jut listen to what you have to say. This is the last time you're going to make that poor woman cry because you show up at five in the morning, too drunk to speak, let alone stand, slurring out your empty apologies. This is the last time you're missing your son's football game because he's finally decided to throw you a bone. This is the last time you're going to sit in that motel room in Colorado and cry like a fucking woman because you know you won't be living for the next six months." Ever since you turned me away, you remember, once you were divorced, every time I left that godforsaken, hellhole of a state, I've told myself I was never coming back to see you; but I always do.

I hate myself for it. I hate myself for dropping everything and driving up there the second you're free. I hate myself for getting so excited at the thought of seeing you, for feeling like nothing else matters but us. I hate myself for asking you to be with me. I hate myself for crying every time you say no. I hate myself for drinking myself into a stupor every day I'm not with you. I hate myself for not being good enough for you, for ruining your life because I can't stay away from you. But, god, more than anything else, I hate myself for being in love with you, for dragging you through all my little camping trips just so I can feel enough like a human being to stay alive for a few more months till I can pull you away for another one. God, you must hate me too.

You can't love me, I don't deserve it, but when we're falling asleep and you wrap your arms around me and hold me like you're clinging to life, I feel like you love me too. How could you, though? You, the only bright spot in my life, you're far too good for shit like me. You deserve so much better, so much more than some rodeo fuck-up who's destined to go nowhere in life but the gutter.

I just thought I'd let you know, that more than I wish I knew how to quit you, I wish I knew how to make you stay. I wish I knew how to be good enough for you. I wish I knew how to make you love me. I wish I knew how to get you to hold me, rock me back and forth and hum that song in my ear just one more time.