January 15th, 1976
Richard called this morning. When he got to work there was a court injunction for the telephone and utility bills on the house in Arlington. Begging me to come home. He is a wreck. Losing his mind.
Am I smug? Am I licking my lips at the delicious revenge of my humiliation?
I don’t know.
Last night I met Jeff in Georgetown for drinks. It was a romantic fantasy. We drank and drank and said wild wonderful love things to one another. We walked arm in arm down the street. (I haven’t done that since my New York days) We necked in a park. Sad– we had no place to go. But we didn’t mind.
Jeff is satisfying some deep inner part of me.
Lynn tells me a romance with a married man will always maintain that glorious drama and passion. Stolen hours. Guarded love.
Richard wants me home.
I pity him.
I do not love him– and even now it frightens me to say that.