I have rules. They are to protect my person, my property, and my heart. I didn’t come up with them all at once, but they were each canonized through experience. Some rules are more important than others. 1) First date meetings should be in a public place. Not a motel room, car, or her apartment after leaving the key out for you so you can sexprov as an intruder. I’ve done all three and they were actually pretty great on the whole. 2) Don’t bring first dates back to the apartment. Although, that girl who stole the ounce of weed off my coffee table did it on our second date. 3) Don’t fuck on the first date. I don’t need to prove anything to myself. Enjoy the slow burn.

If I had a rule about dropping acid on a first date, it would probably be against it. But I broke all the rules with this date. She referred to me as the chilliest guy on Tinder, and she could ‘totally’ see us microdosing together and going camping. I decided to forego a discussion on how microdosing is actually subperceptive and simply said,

“Well I do have liquid…”

I kept it in a glass decanter with a label saying, “DO NOT DRINK… except on purpose.” It also had a hand drawn diagram of the molecule known as lysergic acid diethylamide. The bottle contained 5 cups of water. Each cup contained 1 drop. Each drop contained 120 micrograms of world altering dissociative medicine.

She came directly to my apartment for our first meet. Broke rule number one. I couldn’t say no to those penetrative eyes, filled with sadness and longing, pain and desire. She wanted to have someone to open up to. She lost her mother in the last year and moved to a cottage in the country with her dogs and despair. I was astounded by her trust. And mine. But those eyes she showed me, and the praise she gave me. I had nothing but good feelings about her, so we each drank a quarter cup of diluted liquid. I still didn’t know how to make the first move, so we were just talking and getting stoned. She told me about trimming bud on the West Coast and her mother’s passing. I talked about my ex and my lover who was sent to prison. She grabbed me with those eyes and gave me her lips. But she kept pulling away and cooing softly, and giggling, checking her own emotions,

Soon enough everything started beaming with subtle wonderment. We took a walk through the college campus and the sidewalk flagstones escorted us to a cozy lawn with large, wooden Adirondack chairs, and hammocks. We watched people gently swing as we held hands and communicated with the passing clouds, using nothing more than nods and wobbly grins. Bodies laxed and waned in the hammocks before finally stirring themselves to exit.

I started to sweat and slump and felt the urge to shed my clothes, which meant I needed to get home. I forgot to mention rule number four: Don’t trip with anyone you can’t rub your junk on. The savory beef-like memory in my throat made me wonder if I might’ve had too much of the electric kool-aid and she said she could definitely feel it, and I knew I was by the way the whole of my surroundings seemed to respire and pulse like a maternal fabric, and also the way my beard itched my own face.

I don’t remember the walk home because I was already projecting myself in my bed, in her arms, this island of circulating loneliness not withstanding our newfound passion and studying her tattoos along her naked body which she hasn’t shown a soul in forever but our limbs were for each other and the gears in my mind were on the wall and her heart was in my hand and my cock was in her mouth and I was behind her and I was on top of her and I was beside her and I was within her and no one was alive except for us and no one no one no one no one no one dared touch our rhythm on the island and in the graves and among the stars and no one no one no one but us and I have a rule I kept but withheld the words she whispered while I looked in her eyes thrusting deeper at the stiff precipice she whispered to me barely whispered beyond her will unthinking whispered to me to no one to me and only me the melding of our hearts the welding of our spirits with the blazing passion of our single body now she murmured something I asked her to repeat she said it louder I love you and again I said what and she said I love you and fuck I’m going to cum cum inside me cum inside me inside me sweet man and the island became washed over with a wave of this cosmic ocean drowning itself but the island has no one on it no one no one no one anymore, no one anymore I know no one and I crave their touch like stars in another galaxy to see their light but barely their warmth but will never be close never be close to anyone no closer than warmth from space, on a derelict island bleached and sunburnt with love.

Whatever that is, there’s no rule against it, just words on a stone.