A Simple Infatuation

My mood is extremely low. I am in the perennial panic of not knowing how to handle my life.
-May Sarton
Journal Entry October 15, 1993
"At Eighty-Two, A Journal"

Twenty-five years ago today

March 4, 1986
Tuesday

I went to bed early last night because I couldn't wait for today. I am anxious to see Karen tonight.

Chad said, "I may go to the gym on Monday night."
I was there. He wasn't. We are supposed to see each other on Friday night but I've come up with new limitations where we're concerned.

I did not go to that Career Directions seminar after all. I decided to go home and bike ride. Then I got ready for my 'heavy date' with Karen and Amy.

We ended up meeting at CROGAN's in Walnut Creek. Karen and Amy ran into 'Dave and Kevin' who happened to be a couple of guys that they had met before. After a drink I left in my car and re-met Karen and Amy at BAXTER's. I saw Denise Vinsonhaler there but I pretended not to notice.

I had a good time with Karen and Amy. I liked getting to know Amy a little better as I witnessed Denise being grossly flirtatious. I thought about Denise for a split-second and realized that it was no wonder that her ex-boyfriend treated her like shit. I continued getting to know Amy.

As the night came to an end we all left (Amy, Karen and I). I decided to return to Karen's Apartment intercom to announce myself to see if she would let me in and hopefully spend the night. She didn't. I guess she was afraid I'd molest her. There was some old lady on the lower balcony gave me a cup of tea. I was slightly intoxicated so the courteous tea gift made me feel better. I felt I could drive home despite the foggy night.

As I was driving home I was regretting that I had mailed those cards to Karen yesterday. I realize now that I was a simple infatuation. I misread her friendliness for much more. It must have been something about her keen, irresistible eyes.

I do think I like Amy now. She's kind of special. I hugged and kissed her on the cheek as a brief good night gesture. It's true that I did return to Karen's front steps and spoke to her via her intercom. Karen was nice enough to give me directions. She didn't invite me inside her apartment after I had asked. I think she was afraid. It was funny how that old woman gave me some of her tea. I ended up burning my tongue. The tea was much too hot. I made it home safely.  It was so mysterious, driving through the foggy mist.

He had, he thought, become a man of far fewer words.-John Katzenbach
"The Analyst"