[TRANSCRIPT]

[click, static]

I think…um, I’ve been on edge. All week, ever since I left the Stanley.

Maybe it was driving past Denver that set me off, set me thinking about Harry again. You ever gonna tell me what the hell that was about? You ever going to respond to any of the bonkers transmissions I’ve sent in the past week or so?

[click, static]

I’d…I’d really like to come see you, Birdie. The loneliness of this—of this weird stilted conversation of ours—it’s…profound. A profound loneliness. The kind that’s so deep I’m worried if I leave it in my bones for any longer it’ll just stick to them like tar, never to be scrubbed clean.

This isn’t what I signed up for. I came out here because I wanted to see things yet, but mostly because I wanted to see other people. Harry knew what she was doing—she didn’t want to leave and she didn’t and she knew that would mean being alone. Even if I’m the one who eventually drove off, she might as well have handed me the keys.

If I met you, I don’t think I’d miss her as much as I do. I miss her like you miss…a loose tooth that you’ve gotten used to poking with your tongue, that you’ve learned to eat around. And then you finally go to the fucking dentist and get the thing fixed or torn out and it’s better, you’re not in pain anymore, but it’s also…strange. You got used to shaping your life around this terrible, protruding sharpness and now it’s gone and suddenly your tongue feels too big for your mouth.

I don’t know how to eat anymore. How to talk, how to bite down, how to fill the space where that tooth was. It’s just…a hole.

[click, static]

Whiskey out.

[click, static]

Collision point in Denver

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