Dearest Mallory,

You once told me I had no feelings. You were right and you were wrong. I got more feelings now than I ever had before. I never missed someone like I missed you. My cell is so cold. At night I get the chills. I pretend you’re lying next to me, holding me from behind with your leg draped over mine and your arms wrapped tightly around me. I lie in my cell and imagine kissing you. Not making love, just kissing for hours on end. I remember everything about our time. I remember every joke you ever told. I remember every secret you ever shared. Shared or revealed? I think shared is proper.

I remember every single time you laughed. I remember every meal we ate. I remember your cooking. I remember watching David Letterman. I remember driving fast behind the wheel of the Dodge Challenger and you, baby, by my side. Your bare feet up on the dash, singing along with the radio to your favourite, Patsy Kline, and your dancing, my God, your dancing, on the hood of the car to ”Sweet Jane” while the angels flew by overhead. I never told you before, cause I didnt want to disturb them by calling your attention to them, for fear they’d fly away. But from the first moment I saw you, Mal, you were surrounded by a halo of light, and I could see them, swimming and swirling around you, and I knew that you were my salvation.

Sometimes it’s hard to talk about all the things that are inside of me. That’s why I got so pissed off at all them dumb psychiatrsts and stuff who want to psychoanalyze me and chop up my personality like you could lay it out on a table and say well this part here is the killing part and this part here is the loving part and this part here is because daddy yanked his dick and this part here’s because he didnt get no shiny new bike for his sixth birthday like he was fixin’ on. That one guy Dr. Rheingold, he ain’t psychoanalyzing anyone any more is he? I guess you showed him didn’t you baby, that’s my girl. But you know every time I took a shot and the bullet hit the mark, every time I threw that knife and it landed true, the nature of the universe would reveal itself to me, and I could feel that precise moment of crystal clarity, where I knew, I just knew, baby, that it’s all the same thing. There ain’t no parts. It’s just an illusion. I am everyone and everything that ever lived. It’s what some people call god. And you’re the mirror that showed it to me, baby. You and your angels. You’re teaching me something I never knew before. You’re teaching me how to love.

All God’s creatures know its painful to grow, but I am indeed growing. I know you were pretty pissed off with me right before we got caught, on account of me killing the Indian and all, and oh I guess that hostage business too a little bit, but we can discuss that later. Anyway, killing that Indian was an accident. But sometimes you gotta pay your karmic debt for accidents too, cause it was karma that caused you to commit them in the first place. There ain’t no innocents, no way, baby. Not even you. But our time of delivery is at hand, I can feel it. That part of me that just knows these things, when other people don’t - well, I guess I just got done saying how there ain’t no parts and all, but I guess the other side of being the whole thing is containing its separateness, too - that part is telling me that our time is near. When our existence will change shape and we’ll no longer be locked in this puny world of delusion and pain, but we’ll expand and be released into a whole other level of existence. I can feel it, Mal. The pain is so acute. My skin is sensitive even to the touch of sunlight, the smell of rain and the wind hurts me to breathe, it’s like the pain of birth all over again, but I’m being born into a world that mere human beings can’t even imagine. And you’ll be with me, baby, by my side. That is why in this time of transformation I inspire myself with thoughts of our time together. I go through it hour by hour. I don’t jump ahead either. I take it as it comes, and I live that day again. The way we were when we first kissed…