February 26th, 1982
Two wonderful days off. Sleeping late. Going to afternoon movies. Napping. Relaxing. I went to St. Luke’s tonight— but left at the break with Bob (Howie’s sponsor) to see a Truffaut film at Bleecker Street Cinema. Odd to be out with Bob. We seem to like each other— but have never made much of it. He seems quiet. I’m sure Howie will assume that either Bob and I are interested in each other— or else think that we spent the evening talking about him— or us— or something.
I think my interest in Howie would have continued had he not grown aloof this week. Although I had my doubts about the romance developing— I wasn’t quite ready to stop seeing him. My interest in him was genuine— my love-making was sincere. After three weeks of dating— Howie put me at arm’s length. The phone calls from him stopped. The invitations to sleep with him stopped. I have been rejected. Something was just not clicking— some urgency— some importance had simply not happened. Howie discussed his need for caution. I respected his reluctance to engage in romantic drama so early in a dating relationship. But what caused him to suddenly decide not to see me anymore? Or to see much less of me. It’s an idle curiously, really. I was ignoring my increasing boredom with him— my impatience with what felt like superficiality to me.