I asked myself, "Why am I depressed?" I had no right to be depressed, in my opinion, yet I felt I had no control over my radical ups and downs. "I'm healthy for the most part, my hair has returned, thicker than it was previously, I'm doing well in school and have a few people to call 'friends' . . . so what is wrong?" Through that year the question remained hidden in the back of my mind, unanswered yet unshakeable. I continued to pursue happiness through a confused sense of individualism and an uncharacteristic flurry of activity. I was befuddled by my own ambivalence and, to further harass my state of being, allowed the fluctuating emotions of others to work upon my mind, thereby creating disturbances beyond all reason. To this end, I fancied myself to be in love with a young guy with whom I had become acquainted through "in-the-hall" pleasantries and smiles. After two "dates" we discovered we could converse remarkably; I was delighted by the apparent honesty that we shared and became confident that our's would prove to be the romantic friendship of the decade. Having been subjected to hurtful and unreasonable endings of relationships, however, I had no intention of placing my pride in jeopardy through a display of groveling affection or stifling promises. I told myself to subdue my feelings and expect nothing, yet hoped desperately that the dominoes I had erected would fall in the orderly fashion that my forethought deserved. As it happened, my "dominoes" fell in a manner which had no sense of order. I learned quickly that "good deserts" had nothing to do with the final outcome of a situation, and even one's offering of platonic friendship could be dealt a cruel blow or be considered unacceptable. Despite these unwarranted actions against my cautious and understated affection, I could not entirely cancel the heartfelt wishes my mind contained because he continued, at very sporadic intervals, to encourage a romance. In no time at all I was thoroughly confused as to the part I played and my significance in his life. On certain days he spoke to me at school,and other days I was ignored or avoided. The same was true pertaining to encounters outside of school, which often resulted through chance rather than a specific plan. Whether he would assume a romantic stance or pursue a totally platonic guise became a valid mystery. This infernal uncertainty did nothing to promote self-confidence, for within me I continually questioned the purpose of his unpredictable snubs; was I too tall? Did I embarrass him? Was I not in the "right" crowd? Questions, unanswered, riddled my mind and shook my heart. As the school year coasted along, I began to realize I couldn't necessarily take all of his cold shouldered greetings or lack of acknowledgement as personal digs against my presence. He had problems of his own and moods of his own; this revelation on my behalf only gave me more reasons to worry and dwell on him, however. No