I met you last month at a punk rock bar in Las Vegas. I was there for my birthday. You are the rockabilly-pagan, and I thought that was so cool because I am also an alternative sort of pagan. When I got home, you e-mailed me the sweetest e-mails every day. You wrote me letters and sent photos. You called me all the time and invited me back to Las Vegas for a visit. I work at a divey sort of sports bar; I am far from rich, but I saved my money to go and see you. You had just got a new tattoo on your neck. It's an old-school skull and crossbones. You looked so hot. We walked around for hours just holding hands and talking. You said you didn't care where we went, you were just so happy I was there with you.

In the morning we ran some of your errands, then went to breakfast. I told you I wanted to go to the roller coaster at the Sierra. You dropped me off at the front door of the Sierra and you went to park the car. You told me to meet you at the sports bar. You never came back! You went straight to my hotel and stole all my cash! You left me there, alone, miles from my hotel, and all I had was my ID and 20 bucks!

I still can't believe anyone could be so cruel! You are the most fucked-up person I have ever met! Your friend is moving here in January to work at a new tattoo parlor. You were thinking about moving here with him.