February 16th, 1971

From the very basis of my being I long to be held.

I long to share the quiet, the night.

I long to know that someone is thinking of me, and wanting me.

I long for a warm, bright home, and the presence of someone filling the spaces. 

I long so intensely.

Why do I continue to fight the days? Just tryin’ to get through another lonely day.

I had a perfect vision of my suicide. What I shall do is very neatly bundle up those few things I love: my books, my rosary, my photographs, and a blank check. Then send them to Melinda. That would be the end. Fini…