longer did I cope only with my own burdens, but attempted to share the pronounced emotions displayed by my "flame." When he looked melancholic, I too, soon adopted the feeling for myself; if he was happy, I could be happy. I quickly became aware of the fact that my technique was indeed a lousy one and the potential for happiness was quite slim. With my friends having only mouths, their ears plugged with their own concerns, I resorted to the written expression of my personal pressures. Though the paper could not respond, it similarly could neither judge or reveal my emotional sieges of ink, for the hurried scrawls were carefully concealed. In this fashion, many troubles were rationally resolved; my thoughts were considerably less hideous when viewed as written words, set apart from the mental clutter composed of both reasonable and emotional meanderings. I could objectively scan the bold sweeps crossing page after page and discern the real from the imagined... My deep felt depression carried through to today. . . as well as my bad luck! I saw D as I was coming and wasn't extremely thrilled, which is a shocker in itself; and to top it off, he barely squeaked out a "Hi" to me. That wasn't too much of a surprise, because he has been known to ignore a person. . . me, for example. I must admit I'm really not all here today. I just don't understand what is going on with him. One day he is my friend and the next, he is a stranger. . . Oh, well, I can get so depressed sometimes, it's not even funny! The weird thing is that I'm not especially depressed today, I'm just in a weird mood. . . When I got home, Dad got mad because I forgot to tell them about the PSAT test. He asked about five different times why I didn't let them know. I was so shocked that I went outside and climbed the big pine tree. I'm upset when I do that... especially when there are no branches on the lower half of the tree, and I had to jump to the lowest branch! I got in a better mood after awhile, but it took a bit of psyching on my part! Spring 1979 Walking down the wide highway of life.... Happy, but confused. I've noticed you walking that highway too, And I've often wondered if you felt the same way I do... And then one day you came to me, Smiling, and holding out your hand in friendship. Was it two weeks? Four? The time seemed to fly past Whenever I was by your side. With you, I had no fear to reveal myself... I felt comfortable and secure When you were near, And thought of you constantly Whenever you were away. In addition to hurried prose and diary entries, I also began pinning down my feelings in the form of poetry. Within the poems I could lament my confusion and aloneness, and the self-dependency which had become threatened by my offering of friendship and its subsequent futility. Love Rollercoaster