have known it. The party must have startled you, seeing and talking to all those gay boys. I wish I would have known at the time but I was so jealous of Claude shoving his naked bod almost in your face, I wasn't thinking of innocent things. Especially when he took you in the bathroom. I was wondering what you two were doing, and I almost got up and knocked on the door. Those few minutes you were gone seemed years … I could have clawed his eyes out.
"I was startled when you called me Bob; afraid you were waiting for someone. I just knew you were gay … I wondered about Bob then, and I do now … Bob … I'm afraid I don't like him …
"Right now I hate him. Hate him enough to fight for you and I don't even know him. But he has held you in his arms, and maybe right now you two are together. He must be 'gay' himself or have a tendency toward it. They say normal men don't kiss other men. Like hell they don't. They do worse than that. I've known some so-called normal men that would put a belle to shame by some of the things they want to do. Normal? What's normal and what's abnormal? Isn't it merely a point of view, I ask myself.
"I'm sorry for what I said about Bob. Again I say I'm sorry but I am jealous of him. It's a miserable feeling … a feeling I have no right to feel, but I do, Gay, and I guess it's there and I can't do a thing about it.
"I was looking for love when you came along, Gay. You were it, but you're in love. I wonder if Bob loves you. Has he told you he does? Do you love him? Here again, I'm selfish in hoping you don't.
"I have a date tonight with Greg Brosard. I think I mentioned him to you. He's a very nice kid but, I don't know now … now that you came into my life … I'm sort of planning for it to continue … Right now I'm afraid I'd be bad company for anyone except you.
"This letter is probably all jumbled, for my mind is the same way. Still in the clouds where you left it. Write me real soon. I can hardly wait until I hear from you.
"It has just started raining. I hope it doesn't make your trip home unpleasant. For me it is perfect, for today I don't want to see the sun.
"Greg just called and I told him I couldn't see him tonight. A headache is always a good excuse, isn't it … Tomorrow, maybe tomorrow, things will straighten out … who knows … remember
