Sunday, January 2, 1983


A quiet day, supposedly devoted to reading Simmons. Inevitably, I got little done.

Jeremy rolled up unexpectedly at teatime; he doesn’t go back until early February. We talked along the usual lines and Claire’s name cropped up. Bluntly he asked me, “do you like her?” I hedged in typical embarrassment but he pressed home the point: “Come on, you don’t have to deny it!” Me: “It’s purely platonic, we’re just friends, there’s not anything more!”

Apparently, she's the only one who remains ignorant of my feelings. But I'm also conscious that this is something I've built up in my mind that's separate from the reality of how and who she is. I create an idealised image of her.

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