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It’s true, isn’t it, that most of the decisions we make, how we define our values, needs, aspirations, are mostly a function of place?
In those days, I had this principle that all men should have hair—lots of hair—or else what good were they? Unless, of course, they were so rich they could introduce you to the Rolling Stones, in which case, I suddenly became flexible. Brian was bald.
“Can’t you see,” he said, “that life is too short to be miserable? You have to be with people who love you. The people who care about you. You are too fabulous, darling, to be miserable!”
“I feel like I’ve been doing the right thing for so long, if I don’t—I don’t know—do something pretty soon, something stupid, I’m not going to make it.”
One of the things I’d always dreaded about relationships was that you could say something—one thing—and it would wreck everything forever. You’d never be forgiven, not in ten thousand years.
