Dear Diary,

Tonight is a marvelous night. In strange, weird ways.

Tonight I went to Richard’s for dinner. He called me at work today to ask me to dinner, to say he loved me– to ask me if I loved him. I said I did.

Imagine– I have already gotten my bearings. Richard was coy and stupid and bitching and wheeling. He kept flashing from seeming relaxed and easy flowing to intense moments of hostility and ugliness. In an hour or so he accused me snooping through his papers while he was out of the room, whoring around all over town, giving him crabs, looking like shit, he kissed me, he held me– and then, in a split moment walked into the room and told me that he hated me. He was livid, shaking. I refused to deal with. I said “wow”– got my coat, called Sady and left.

Now a couple of hours later I am lying in front of my technicolor TV listening to Mac Davis. I have pulled my mattress out into the living room and I am lying on my stomach in amber light smoking menthol cigarettes and drinking iced water and being very happy to be alone. Alone. Alone. God, its been so long.