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…