March 1st, 1976
Incredible past few days. Late Friday at work I started to get sick. Coughing– aching. I met Allen at the Grill in Georgetown after work and got progressively worse. By Saturday my temperature was 102º and I knew it had only just started. I called Richard. I wanted him to take care of me. I can’t stand being sick and alone. I am afraid of dying– of being found dead at 25 years of age in my sad little apartment. Even with friends, Allen, Lynn– I have the death fear. With Richard, it vanishes and I can relax. Oh God, how much I love that man. The last few times I’ve been with him I’ve learned a few important things I wasn’t aware of before. Hard to put into words. About the structure of our relationship. I went over to his apartment last week. He had some things he wanted to give me– glasses, an iron, etc. Within two minutes of being with him I was totally in love with him again. It’s hard to imagine being so much in love with someone who has done so much damage to me. But did he really?
Or wasn’t the damage really caused by my own immature needs? Oh Larry, Larry and Jeri– the organized suffering bitches.
I need to call my mother.