God, is this all it is, the ricocheting down the corridor of laughter and tears? Of self-worship and self-loathing? Of glory and disgust?

Strange, when one thinks of all the other boys, infinite experimental kisses, test tube infatuations, crushes, pseudo-loves. All through this physical separation, through the testing and the trying of the others, there has been this peculiar rapport, comradeship, of us two so alike, so similar, but for science-boy and humanities-girl - the introspection, self examination, biannual deep summarizing conversations, and then the platonic parting.

Secretly, in studies and attics and schoolrooms all over America, people must be writing.

If only I can find him... the man who will be intelligent, yet physically magnetic and personable. If I can offer that combination, why shouldn't I expect it in a man?

I have been holding a dialogue with myself and girding myself to stand fast without running.

It seemed silly to wash one day when I would only have to wash again the next. It made me tired just to think of it.

So I kiss him, and there is the great dark sea ahead.