The day begins off-center for me. I start to whine about Howie. This “sober” relationship is too tame— too calm. There is no urgency— no driving sense of importance. It is lacking dramatic content. I long for passion to flare up— and it does not. the fact is that I am having a perfectly wonderful time with Howie. I like him and enjoy him. He came by the apartment after work last night. We had planned to have a fast supper and see a play off-Broadway here in the Village. After a berserk day at the office, I left a state of chaos and raced home for a whirlwind shower— iron a shirt— feed Sadie— straighten the apartment and try to look calm and normal within 45 minutes. Howie arrives— and, curiously enough, states that he is exhausted and needs to lie down. He stretches out on the sofa while I walk Sadie. We decide that trying to have supper and get to the theater by 7:30 is just too much of a rush. So we have dinner at the Cottonwood Cafe. It’s a nice dinner— we discuss religion. After dinner, we walked back toward my apartment— and realized that a meeting was just beginning at the church on Christopher Street— Howie wants to go. It is a gay meeting. I am immediately uncomfortable. I don’t know why. I suggest that we meet later— that I want to go to St. Luke’s. He said he’d like to join me. On the street, he said he knew that I was not comfortable. St. Luke’s is fine— and I am comfortable.