Waiting for you to talk to me, always waiting, I shut tight my throat and write. Sometime, when everything is all right, I think, I’ll show you this so that you can see that I’ve been human, always human. Even after I’ve said too much, I have something I can say. Even though you’ll let me do nothing for you, I can do this, so that even if you throw away this time with me, its meaning will later be restored in the greater restoration of your love.
19 February 1979