The more time I am forced to spend in Lauren’s presence, the less love I feel not only for her, but also for everyone else. The less love for Anita and Nada. The less love for Helen. And Lesley, too. The less love, period. Lauren is now like a desert, where my love pales, withers, shrinks, dries up, crumbles into dust. If for no other reason, this is why I must get away from her. For without love—without Anita and Nada and Helen and even Lesley—I myself will pale. I will wither, shrink, dry up, crumble into dust.

Addendum (October 7, 2000)

I have become so loveless, so hard, so very bitter, that I feel I am approaching the threshold of a hitherto unknown danger. This morning Lauren told me that I was so crazed, so wild, so strange last night that she started worrying about her own safety and the safety of our children. Although she should not have worried about violence on my part, she had perhaps sensed that I was close to some other brink. I must do something about myself. I must turn away from Lauren. I must turn away from this horrible marriage and focus on my love for Anita, Nada, Helen, and Lesley. Yes, Lesley, too. I feel that this is where salvation lies. I feel that there is no other way out of this hell. More important, I feel there is little time left to act.