Cuomo headquarters on primary night was an incredibly happy and surprised scene. Maria Cuomo reminded Teresa of her promise to quit her job to work for her father if he won this primary, and Teresa plans to live up to it. Now that she’s had her revenge, Teresa’s hostility toward Koch is gone.
There’s no doubt that New York’s great virtue is its diversity and its celebration of variety. South Florida is bland, and here everyone hates the outsiders, the ones who are different: Haitians, Spanish-speakers, gays, Jews, people who live in houses made of brick rather than stucco.
I’ve just come out of the shower after returning from the health club. My lenses are in the machine. I’m naked, lying on fresh sheets, Brahms is on the radio, and I feel surprisingly good. Workouts make me feel better mentally even if I’m not developing gorgeous peaks on my biceps or huge pecs.
I got a letter from Sean in Gainesville: “In spite of everything going wrong, I like it here. I’m sure it has something to do with the feeling of independence living alone gives you. Whatever. . . I miss you very, very much. Please stay happy for me. I never want you to be sad.”
He kept telling me that he loved me, and I am positive he does. And God help me, I love the kid, too. We held each other for a long time in pitch darkness punctuated by violent, brief lightning.
Finally he kissed me, I kissed back, and we were off. At first we had our shirts and jeans on – he had on that red Sasson shirt I gave him, the one I especially like. His hair is long, the way I like it, too. I was surprised that Sean seemed handsomer in reality than in my memory.
I just walked back alone from Diane’s open studio. The horse and all the cows were out, the air was cool, and the mountains and trees are the last of rural Virginia I’m going to see for a long while. Part of me would like to stay here and hide out from the world in safety and security.
It’s funny, though: there’s such a difference between being with all men, as I was during the day, and being with women this evening. Men – most straight men, anyway – are such clods. Women, on the other hand, have spunk; they know how to laugh and relate.
“It’s strange,” Sean writes, “every day I find myself wanting to call and talk to you. Then I remember you’re far, far away in another galaxy called New York.”
In an hour in midtown Manhattan you can see hundreds of people who you’re attracted to, at least two dozen genuine nut cases, and thousands of faceless hordes.