Another clue as to possible reasons why I ran away from him. Letter of January 23, 1963. He is complaining about the local base library.

Now, nothing he says is anything I would not have said myself in similar circumstances. I could be (still can be) as big an intellectual snob as anyone. As a matter of fact, one of the things he complains about is an inability to locate any of the books that I have suggested. What those books were, I have no idea, but they were not carried in this library. The most recent New York Times was from December 8, which he calls "obviously understandable," but there is no Huxley, Sarte, Camus, Whitehead, Mill, etc..."Nothing!"

All very well and good, but then he ends with this line: "A whole row of shelves is devoted entirely to Science Fiction rot."

As I remember, I liked science fiction. I wonder if he ever read Vonnegut. Who also refused to identify himself with other "sci-fi" writers.

So it goes.

Getting toward the end of these letters - these lovely love letters, the like of which I was never to see again. In this one, he details his ritual of taking a shower. As if he has a need to paint me a picture of himself, a picture of who he is, of what he does and how he does it. As if these things will one day be a part of me as well. As familiar to me as they are to him now.

My darling, he says.

When I first read the letter, I thought that I could then write a bit about how I, too, became somewhat ritualistic. He talks about procedures, set formats, that he sets for himself, to which he rarely sticks with precision, "working instead, with considerable inventiveness I must say, on new and different ways or applications of geting the things I call essentials accomplished."

I suppose we all do that - but "I must say" that this describes my own approach to my day almost to the letter. So did he "instruct" me in this? Have I taken his habits as my own? Who knows? Who remembers?

And, reading this letter once again, I know I don't really care. There's no way of knowing. All that is really important is that he says, "My darling." That still breaks my heart.