A clue to his birthday. The letter dated Oct. 30, 1962, in which he says that he was 22 on Monday. Finally finding a 1962 calendar online, I see that Oct. 30 was Tuesday, so his birthday must be October 29, 1940. He is 67 now.

Another clue to why I may have decided to flee. I quote: "On the whole our conversation was the best I have participated in. This is not meant to be a grading of your ability to converse on the telephone (I might like to do this sometime though - also your letters should be appraised).

See, this kind of thing would have made me very nervous. Honestly, I do not believe he meant any of this in any severely critical way. I think, rather, that if he had "appraised" them, it would have sounded very dry and academic, but would have been actually full of praise. It was just his way of sounding appreciative. But it would have made me nervous all the same.

My father was always "appraising" me, and I always came up short. I always came up short in my own appraisal. Looking back on things, I believe I began choosing men on the basis of whether or not I would ever have to fear coming up short in their appraisal, and this meant - not always choosing someone I admired. There were a few times when I chose someone I felt equal to in some way, but usually someone I felt superior to in most ways. Sometimes I was wrong in my own assessment. I most always paid for my miscalculation.

In spite of his seeming judgemental attitude, I do believe this man did love me and would have continued to love me, until I left him, which I do believe I would have in any case sooner or later. But of all of them, he was the only one who considered me an adventure. I didn't know enough to consider him mine.