April 11, 1999 - April 17, 1999

Sunday, April 11
As we drove back to Bolinas, we talked about our relationship. Don was concerned that every time he expressed a down mood or a disappointment, I would try to cheer him up.

"You don't have to fix my feelings," he said. "They're just there."

"Thank you for telling me that," I said.

"I value you for what you are, not for what you can do for me - and you do a lot for me. But I love you for who you are."

"I need to hear that," I admitted. "Too often I've played the hero, the provider, the rescuer. I do it well. It's what I did with Sara and with Bob. It feels good for a while, but it leads ultimately to failure."

We talked a bit about poetry, too. It's good to have someone to bounce ideas about language off of. He liked the comment I'd made to Brad earlier this week, that poetry is the act of saying something that everyone knows for the first time.

That evening, David came by with a surfer videa. I had picked out Small Soldiers. We watched the surfer movie for a while, but I did not find it engaging. Then we started Small Soldiers, which David did not find engaging. He left about halfway through. Don did not watch either video and sat on the sofa across the room from me almost the entire time.

Monday, April 12
This was a busy day. Don had his therapy appointments of course, and we picked up his repaired printer, dropped laundry off at Jnani's, dropped a videotape off in Mill Valley, and picked up Don's mail in Bolinas. By the time we got back to his house, it was 6:00 PM.

Before I left to return to Mountain View, we retrieved and sent e-mail from Don's computer. Don still dislikes Microsoft Outlook and Internet Explorer. He is going to download Netscape, whose interface he understands better and likes more.

The weekend seemed oddly hollow, despite all our business. When we spoke on the phone that evening, we agreed to spend more intimate time together. That's what we really seek from the bond between us - that rare sharing of souls.
Tuesday, April 13
Don called and left me a message at home. He had gone for a walk along the beach in Bolinas with his friend Connie and her husband. It was a beautiful day. "Days like this," he said, "make me realize how lucky I am to live in Bolinas."

He also had good news from Dr. Lowenstein, who called to tell him there is no reason to delay the angiogram. Don said he was going to call tomorrow and set up the appointment. I look forward to it with both eagerness and some anxiety. There is every reason to believe that, like the first one, it will be negative. That will leave us with a mystery - why did the hemorrhage happen in the first place? - but it's a mystery we can live with.

Wednesday, April 14

Thursday, April 15

Friday, April 16
Don attended a Commonweal event this evening, so he did not come down to Mountain View. It was actually pleasant to spend a Friday evening at home alone.

Saturday, April 17
After a full day at work (sweltering in the unair-conditioned office), I headed toward Bolinas, taking the alternate route up Highway 35. A good thing I did. Just outside of San Bruno, I had a flat tire. I was towed to the Sears Automotive Center at the Tanforan Shopping Mall. I called Steve to see if he could pick me up, but he didn't answer his phone. Then I called Don to tell him I would not be coming up tonight.

To kill time, I snuck into a showing of Patch Adams. What a dreadful movie. Afterwards, I got ahold of Steve and he came and rescued me. I was very tired, having barely slept the night before, gotten up early to shower, and worked all day in the hot office. Too much stress!



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© 2000 Louis Flint Ceci / ceci@best.com