These are “love letters”?
I am convinced now, more than ever, that this guy is a pickle poacher.
“I trust you know that I miss you, that my concern for you is as wide as the air, my confidence in you as deep as the sea, my love rich and plentiful,”
“The resistance I wage does wear me down — because of the position, the best I can hope for is a draw, since I have no vehicle or forum to try to change things,”
“For this reason, I can’t stay very much longer than a year. Thankfully, I don’t yet feel like the job has dulled my senses or done irreparable damage to my values, although it has stalled their growth.”
“One week I can’t pay postage to mail a resume and writing sample, the next I have to bounce a check to rent a typewriter,”
‘I think of you often, though I stay confused about my feelings. It seems we will ever want what we cannot have; that’s what binds us; that’s what keeps us apart.’
‘A young black man with his arm behind his head, staring at the ceiling with moist eyes, and a young white woman resting her head on his arm, alone and facing the swirling expanse, outside the room, inside themselves, separate in the eye of the storm.’
” maintaining a relationship requires breaking some sweat. Like a good basketball game. Or a fine dance. Or making love.”
There is something very, very wrong with this guy.
He sees the scene in his head, detached from it, and narrates it. It’s a gay guy playing a role. Period.
In the letter above he doesn’t know whether to say “I” or “you.”
And this is a guy that uses “I” at every conceivable turn.
Plus, she’s a “stunner.”
I see a “type” emerging.