January 20th, 1979

Two weeks of what became contrived romance with Bob has ended with a quiet snowy Saturday afternoon. Last night, over dinner at a Spanish restaurant where a roach crawled across our table, I told him that I just was not ready for a lover or a full-time boyfriend. I told him that the only way I could continue to deal with him was on a much more casual level. A fun relationship. Not a commitment of either time or emotion. He said he could not deal with that. After a few moments of Jewish whining and blame-laying I realized I didn’t quite care for him even as a friend.

Now, on an icy cold day I have my options back. Oh Larry, you get smarter and smarter.

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To think that just a few weeks ago I was trying to turn John into a lover. Now, I don’t even want a full-time boyfriend.

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Emotional independence is such a vague possession. And such a vital ingredient to happiness.