October 30th, 1977

Late last night, Julian and I were stretched out holding ourselves close together. Drifting through long silent spaces of time. Drifting and dreaming as I rub my hand up and down his legs. I recognize a basic need in myself for the peace and protection a close relationship brings to me. It’s the missing element in one-night stands. Tricks are junk food that may satisfy you but provide no nourishment for you. A steady diet of whoring finally leaves you malnourished. The bars are full of hungry men.

Those of us who have opted for a life without the support of our nuclear families can be the most voracious. The need for old-fashioned life supports is an important emotion. Eventually we satisfy these needs with people other than our family. My devotion to my friends is as committed and intense as my feelings for my family. It takes a long time for really trusting experiences to mature, however. So many people pass through my days. So few remain after intermission. I think it’s true, then, that the older we get– the relationships that we experience are of a higher quality than those of our youth. The relationships I am having now seem far more profound than my emotional relationships of a few years ago.

Our days are filled with our selfhood. With our personal pains. And our needs. Our search to fulfill them.

My weekend with Julian was so wonderful. I feel his absence. He’s really a wonderful man. He’s warm and loving and generous and sensual. Romantic. Sweet. We had a weekend of pleasures. Romantic dinners. Champagne. Romantic music. Sleeping together in the fitful fashion of passion. Bodies holding each other tightly. Surveying each others bodies. Expression of acceptance. Love. Perhaps. The Big Perhaps.