June 7th, 1973
[later– at work]
It occurs to me that I am now suffering because of my own actions. How fucked up. I wanted an end to the romantic bullshit. I wanted an end to the melodrama. I wanted us to be independent. Going our own way. Independent of one another. Freedom to pursue self– rather than duty to a collective identity.
Now Richard is liberating himself– and I feel a weird pain–