January 19th, 1982

Standing in line at the grocery staring at a beautiful man with curly black hair and a kind, intelligent face. I will die with this need for love. Riding the subway, lost in a memory of winter mornings in bed with Richard. Lost in a memory of love. Growing more used to the notion that I will never have love in my life again. Trying to believe this emptiness, this aching need has some meaning.