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(from k to r, 6 Nov 1994)


I feel a little shaken up inside, like one of those terribly goyish
snow-scene ornaments, that you can shake and watch all the snow twist
and twirl in the currents.

I feel as if we're somehow losing our vocabulary, physically, the ability to
distinguish between "not now" and "not this".

You can be very quiet sometimes, too quiet, and I don't yet trust my ability
to read the silence.

I love you allowing me to be there with you for times like today, when
you just need some touch and warmth and gentleness.  But it seems that
for so long it's been nothing *but* that: and I don't know if it's just a
phase, or if it says something more definite about what you want and
don't want.

After the last time that the touch was more seductive, more purposefully
intense, I asked if any of the new relationships you were entering would
be preventing more times like that, and you answered no, and seemed a
little touched that I think in those terms.

The past few times I was touching you, sometimes I'd goof, and you'd push
me away a little, and I don't have the vocabulary or confidence to know
what all was included in that pushing.

I keep thinking about how upset you were when W. tried to seduce you when
you were not in that mood.

Please, I know I may seem like I'm over-reacting, but it's on my mind a
lot.  I need to hear from you how you feel about me, and about this.  I
care about you, quite possibly more so than anyone else on this campus,
and not hearing from you hurts.


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