Are you going to be OK?”“Mom’s here, so yes. I’ll probably talk to Doctor Mercer tomorrow. Thank you for calling.”“You’re welcome,” I ...eplied.We said ‘goodbye’ and I hung up, then collapsed on the couch between Lara and Clarissa.“Well, that sucked,” I sighed. “She was sobbing at the end.”“Because you’re engaged?” Clarissa asked.I shook my head, “No, because she doesn’t think she can ever love someone.”“That would be severely depressing.”“I know.”October 5, 1984, McKinley, Ohio“What are we doing. There was no connection except for the genitals, and afterwards I just chalked it up to experience without the slightest desire for a repeat performance. In my late twenties, for many personal reasons, I tried to stop dressing and to put the girl on a shelf. And while it didn't work mentally, I was able to suppress the physical dressing part except for a few binges here and there, and even they stopped eventually. The fantasies didn't stop, though, if anything they'd gotten stronger, and they. More

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