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The worst that can happen is really what I think about myself. I hate to let myself off the hook, but I also understand that I didn’t act dishonorably. The road to hell, of course, is paved with good intentions, and it’s going to be a long while before I get over this.
There’s a very pretty girl – about 22, I guess – who lives here. Last night her mother said, “My daughter thinks you’re very handsome.” “Has she seen an optometrist lately?” was my lame reply, but when I spoke to Delia today as she was sunning herself in front of their townhouse in a red bikini, I felt excited. I mean, I’m gay, but I’m not that gay.