April 9th, 1977
[continued]
All of this compounded by what became gradually a real sense of difference with Gregg. That was a process which I think began when we had the encounter about Richard last fall. More than the details of the situation, I was confounded by a sense that the real intention was to rile to me. A deliberate attempt to upset me. It was confusing for me to think that a person with whom I had been having what I considered to be a successful roommate/friend relationship could have motives to hurt me. And then that incident was followed up with a couple more similar situations over Richard. By this time my confidence in him as a friend was totally shaken. And while my personal respect for him was disappointing, I was observing his bizarre relationships with other people. Bill and Sid and Nick and Gary and now this kid Kelly. In each and every situation Gregg lied outrageously to all of them. The lies started coming back to me and I was genuinely dumbfounded at the extent of his lying. Then I actually caught him lying to me. Fantastic lies– like his modeling career and the three-piece suit he supposedly got from modeling, which I recognized to be Bella’s. I became thoroughly convinced by the first of this year that Gregg had serious neuroses and dealt largely with worlds of his own creation.
It’s really a negative situation to be living in such a grim environment with very paranoid feelings toward the person you’re living with.
Living in that apartment was such an unrelentingly depressing experience that finally, ready or not, it had to end.
Consequently a fight. Our encounter over the phone call turned almost instantly to physical violence. During which I did considerable tearing up of the apartment, tossed his clothes and shoes out of the window, threw water on him, and, somehow, managed to break my ankle in the process.
So I came limping in pain to Lynn and George and they have nursed me and cared for me for a week now– and I have made plans not to return to the apartment. What I intend to do is share Jim Gregory’s apartment for “awhile” as I wait for the apartment at Don’s building. It so happens that he is anxious to share his apartment because he travels normally five days a week. It’s only a one-bedroom, but the fact that he’s gone during the week and that I am frequently away on weekends makes it seem feasible to me.
What is left now is only the final details of completing this transition. I am dismayed most by what seems to be just another relationship of mine that has ended in failure, hurt feelings, and confusion. There is no happy thread of continuity to my life. I nag myself with the question of whether I will go through my entire life going from one unhappy set of circumstances to another. Have I just been unlucky in my dealings with people or does it indicate some predisposition on my part to associate with inevitably disastrous relationships? Oh, I don’t know. Finally, I think the way my life has been structured for so long reflects a basic immaturity on my part. The general lack of direction to my life. Floundering, almost, in circumstances of the world about me. Exerting no real control.
Richard was here last night. How difficult it is for me to admit that this huge commitment which I made with him that was intended to last throughout my entire life would end in failure.