You are beautiful and you will never read this.

Every time I go camping now, I think about that night we both got extremely drunk and stoned and passed out in some strangers tent. I think you drank a 26er of Iceberg Vodka and I may have had 12 India beer and a flask of rum. We got so drunk and stoned that we began walking in circles, chasing squirrels and eating glow in the dark jelly beans.

While stumbling after the squirrels with my eyes closed, I ran head first into a tent that looked more like a laundry bag and felt more like a log cabin. I grabbed you by your shirt collar and threw you in through the door which wasn't open and proceeded climbed in with you. I think we made out for a few minutes and then we took off our shoes, full of mud and salt water, and I threw them outside. You told me we should keep them inside because somebody would steal them. I told you to shut up and kiss me again.

You did.

There we were. Naked and having sex in some strangers tent, on some strangers blankets, neither of us sober enough to actually see one another. Every once in awhile I would smell your hair to make sure it was you. Your hair always smelt like Coconut.

We were having a great fucking time and then you said to me, "I think I need to go throw up". I was so pissed off but I let you throw yourself, naked, out the door to spill your guts to the tall grass behind the strangers tent. While you were gone I sat cross legged in the corner of the tent to stay warm and sang Elliott Smith songs to myself. You were gone for the first 5 songs off of the XO album.

When you came back in I was completely out of the mood to have sex again. I felt like I needed to throw up, but didn't want to go out into the tall grass naked and I didn't want to put my clothes back on either. You came in and wrapped your arms around me crying like your dog was just killed. I asked you what the fuck was wrong and you said, "Dad just killed the dog".

All I could think about was the image of your father taking his butchers knife and slitting your poodles throat. Rosy red blood soaking into it's fluffy white fur while he whimpered like a dying poodle would whimper. You told me that you felt like drowning yourself in the Atlantic Ocean and I told you that drowning yourself is a horrible way to commit suicide and that blowing your brains out with your fathers shotgun would be much easier.

You kept your arms wrapped around me and we fell asleep in the strangers tent.

The next morning when we woke up the sun was shining in through the screen above us and there was a naked hippie couple snoring very loudly behind you. I was the first to wake and I really didn't want to wake you up because you had probably forgotten about your dead dog and I really didn't want to have to break the news to you.

I woke you up anyways because I was getting bored.

We both put our clothes back on and climbed out through the hole in the door quietly so that we wouldn't wake the hippies. I took your hand and kissed you on the cheek and said, "Your dog is dead". You looked down like a sad little girl and said, "Somebody stole our fucking shoes".