I remember one evening in particular, when an acquaintance had convinced me that I should go out to the movies with him. I went along to prove my own gaiety and for several hours kept up every appearance of the fun the others were having, though I was pained by the episodes that they found funny. When I came home, I felt a return of panic, and a sadness of dinosaur proportions. I went into the bathroom and threw up repeatedly, as though my acute understanding of my loneliness were a virus in my system. I thought that I would die alone, and that there was no good reason to stay alive, and I
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