May 19th, 1977

Twilight cool summer evening amid the outrageous clutter of my Glover Park apartment. Last Saturday movers brought my sofa and chairs from Raymond and all my furniture from Richard. Tonight is the first chance I’ve had to start organizing.

Last night I went to R.’s and used his car to bring over my dishes and glasses and kitchen stuff. I reproduced his Marily Monroe print and ramed it for him as a gift. He called this morning to small talk. Finally, he said, “you know, I still love you and I miss you.”

And yes, Richard, I still love you– and I’ve never stopped even when I’ve tried to make myself. No one has ever replaced you and god knows I’ve spent the last two years throwing myself at men. Now my heart has stopped breaking. 

My memory is fixed on driving into the sunset down to The Keys– drinking beer in the car with you. Sitting at the Overseas Lounge drinking with Charlie Mae. Staring at your perfect face. The long winter nights wrapped together in bed in our little house in Arlington. Larry and Richard. The parties we gave. The fights we had.

They’re the sweetest memories I have. I cling to them.