November 2nd, 1978
I’ve had an inexplicably calm day. Perhaps my unscheduled day off yesterday did me more good than I was aware of. At any rate, I have floated through a busy day with the even energy I usually feel with Valium.
John and I have had six days of unmarred harmony. We’ve been together every night and my feelings, nearly against my now cautious will, have been rising to a climax. What a perfect lover he is for me. He is lifted whole from the early pages of my pubescent sexuality. Last night, we were watching the opera Macbeth on television– sitting in almost facing chairs sharing a hassock with our stocking feet wrapped around each other… We began to doze– and I sat and watched his sleeping face, filled with the most total contentment. We hold each other all night long. Occasionally I will wake and find myself on the other side of the bed and roll over to him; even sleeping he moans and holds me close. We are like two children protecting each other from a stormy night.
Tonight I expected the let-down. I checked a calendar against my journal tonight– and only one exception– John and I have had a major fight once a week since October began. By fight I mean that once a week he has disappeared for a night– usually with plans already made with me for the evening. John has a side to his nature that I recognize, have felt myself, and have known so often in other people. The drunk, wild nights when we pursue our demons through late night streets and drip with lust for some fantastic satisfaction that we know will never last until morning. Only till the liquor wears off.
For all of my whoring I was always only looking for a lover. Something permanent and sure and filling.
Instead of the let-down, I did get a somewhat drunk call after John had stopped at The Jolly Ox (where we had dinner last night) for drinks after work. When I sat down to write tonight it was intended to chronicle another night without hearing from John. Another disappointment. Instead, he was sweet and funny and relaxed.
I wonder whether it’s harder for me to accept the idea that I am falling in love– or the idea that someone may be falling in love with me?