A lot of things in my life have felt unfair but I know this one is. I had a clean slate—a real, true clean slate. No ability, no one coming after me … a chance to start over. I’m not saying that Rose and I would have become best buds but … I don’t know. It felt like she maybe understood.

Then again, it felt like you understood. And you just told me, in no uncertain terms, that you don’t. Or you don’t want to. Whatever the truth of your feelings or your ability to forgive me, to give me a clean slate, to understand me and give me a second (okay, third, fourth, infinite) chance, you’ve made your choice. You don’t want me around anymore. You’ve told me to leave.

I scorched the earth beneath us and you’re salting the ground—that’s what you said. I thought letting Rose go, pushing her away, was what you’d want me to do. Now I’m not so sure.

You were a good navigator, Mark. People really don’t appreciate paper maps, but even now, with smart phones and satellite GPS and everything else, there are huge parts of this country that push you completely off the grid. People who drive around without an atlas in their backseat pocket are idiots—the last thing you want is to get stuck in the desert with no reception, seventy miles from the nearest gas station, with the sun going down.

But you loved looking at the paper maps and telling me where to go. On the best days, you would tell me to take a turn because you thought there might be a cool lake or forest just down that road and you missed the open air so much. Half the time, it’d turn out to be a mall parking lot. That’s what I get for having a Rand McNally from 2003.

I bought new maps. I was hoping that we

It’s back to the open road for me, I guess. You asked me to leave and, for once, I’m going to do what someone asks of me.

III

SMOKE

03-01-2017, morningwafffles, text post

Thanks for all the love you’ve been filling my in-box with the past few days! I was pretty nervous about posting this most recent chapter and it’s been SUCH a relief to see it go over well.