Subj:

Date: 8/28/2001 11:46:53 AM Pacific Daylight Time

Jannee,

No glitch, the email arrived.

About Marta; I can't help it I am [at times] really scared - I don't want her to die without my holding her again; and I want her to enjoy her life – every moment of it. I truly cannot know what to expect. She has been close to death before and has pulled through. Maybe something has changed psychologically; I think we both made sacrifices for each other that we had not made before; despite appearances the relationship was deep; it has certainly taken the wind out of my sails; I hope it has not sapped any of her energy but I fear it has; she has a supportive environment [Lisa's house]. But, I think she has chances for a long life, I hope so and that it is good; but I fear and have no one with whom to share the fear [I am sharing it with you.]

About my dad - I don't really miss him. However, I'm affected. I suddenly began to miss Marta badly [I was doing allright before that] the day after he died. My dad left me some money. Not much but just enough to pay off my debts [9% credit card] and buy back the two years of PERS from when I worked at HSU.

About us - I think we are close but don't know it; brother-sister is one aspect of it: just look at the squabbling; as far as it is brother-sister its good for both of us including for you that you can say whatever and I don't hate you for it - an improvement over your real brother; I wish there would be less defenses coming into play and that it could be more openly supportive - I wish all my relationships could be like that; I do know that when push comes to shove you are supportive of me and others.

It’s been a long time since I have fully disliked anyone. Last time was an instructor who did not like me in undergraduate school; he screwed with my grades; some years ago I realized that I did not hate him anymore. There is someone new in my life to dislike. What is that about? I am needing to share my weakness and you are the target for sharing. The someone to dislike [I don't need to disclose that; you might guess who it is] is not a regular at SV.

Here is something else. I hope I'm not sharing more than you want to hear. Gil is one of my best friends and eating and drinking and philosophizing and woman seeking [when we're out at night] and story-sharing buddies. If I have you and Gazella over to my new house - I'm thinking of a small or not-so-small party - you'll likely meet him but please please don't say anything; I know you will not; but I'm just alerting you. Anyway, Gil and I went to the beach the other day; I had just taken 20mg Prozac and I knew by experience and from the drug books that beer would not be a good idea. Beers were had. Normally in my friendship with Gil, I tend to be the alpha-male though he is not one to be cowered or dominated. I was having a hard time prying off the caps to my first beer, cutting up my index finger – there was no bottle opener and the St. Pauli Girls were not twist offs – and Gil opened my first beer for me with his keys, saying "Anil, look carefully so you can do it next time." However, something to do with the beer, the Prozac, my emotional state and who I am and that I preferred to not cut up my fingers and have him open my beers – I wanted him to open my beers, with each beer I began to look forward to him opening the bottle. So he opened all my beers. He may have strutted a little and may have boasted in jest "I can do something better than Anil." A little later I stated, "I am feeling like a wimp." I was feeling like a wimp; and it had something to do with me, Prozac, beer and my emotional state. It felt so good to have my beer caps opened for me, to be taken care of. I looked at Gil. I wanted to be taken care of, to be held by someone strong. [I do not think sex was part of it.] I said nothing but he may have sensed something. A number of times I apologized for not being the "good" company that I normally am. He said very kindly each time "That's OK Anil". But I so, so needed to be held. I felt scared. I struggled to not give in to the urge to walk over and be held. It helped in my struggle that I had no idea and I have no idea and I do not want to have an idea what his response might have been. Upon returning home, I brought out a pot of soup that I had made and some whole-wheat sourdough bread from the Co-op and offered some to Gil. I made some scrambled eggs and toast and offered some to Gil. He had the soup and bread but no eggs; I ate the eggs but no soup. I told him he should have more soup. He said that that would finish the soup and I said "that's OK that's what the soup is for". I then excused myself and went to bed and slept. I woke up at 9PM feeling like "myself" again. The previous night had been the second of two nights that I "went out." It was the night you may remember I was not sure whether to go out. Well, Eli invited me to a party he was going to so I decided to go. When I got there the party was over but I was then in "going out" mode. So I did. I will spare you the details. The result is that some drinking buddies who are pretty wild themselves are saying, "You're a wild man, Anil." It’s a combination of laughing at me and with me and a little awe and maybe a little anti-awe. The events described in this paragraph do not of course circumscribe my "repertoire" of behaviors; they are not normal in that they are not everyday or even everymonth; but they are not atypical in that they are a part of me; they are in part a reaction, at this time, to the stress in my life but such behaviors are also my response in times when I am not stressed but also not in a committed relationship.

It would be typical of you to take this information without assessing, diagnosing or judging. I am needing to share and I sorta trust you. However, just in case you are wondering whether I am questioning or exploring my sexual identity [preference], I am not. I know what that identity is and I am, in myself, comfortable with it. What I would like, when I have healed from my present state, is to have someone with whom to share my whole identity; the strength and weakness; the mystic and the fool; the person who wants and is afraid of sex; the person who does not cry but for whom tears are so often near the surface; the person who... why am I going on; this attempt to share is becoming tiring to me; I am spending emotion in the attempt; but I need to share... I may, sometime, return to this attempt to characterize in words what I am but I will not if you tell me that you would rather that I did not

Love,

Anil