nccotus

at the end of an ill fated relationship with a roommate outside Cambridge after graduation from Harvard when I was very ill, my psychoanalyst asserted to me that I wanted him to be “my man.” I didn’t really understand at the time, I was just so lost.

I see it here now. As my relationship with Alex finally starts to die down I am reaching out for a male presence to hold me, in my father, my son, and still clinging to the vestiges of the relationship with Alex.

There was a Scottish film I saw a long time ago about a man whose lover left him. He got a job as an ice cream truck driver that turned out to be a mafia run business, or something like that. That was how he moved on. For me it’s the ALIENS.

No more men for me. I am so fragile and broken. I can’t stand the thought of being touched. I enjoy the companionship here with men and women alike but I do not enjoy the thought of being close to anyone.

I don’t know how I would get by if I were on my own and did not have these people to share and talk with. But I do want to be on my own again.

Lord help. I am lifting myself up to you in this regard.

I probably just need a good therapist and a nurse to sit in for a couple of hours a week.