232
PARTISAN REVIEW
clammy. To keep from falling, I have to press hard. I don't think
it's worth it.
Last night I fell. The walls are out now. My area for
maneuvering is narrowing, but I feel freer than ever. The
sensation, however, is not altogether pleasant. I seem desperate
to myself, even hysterical at times, and yet I'm in love with
Marshelaine more powerfully than ever. I realize that that might
be merely a reflex response. I don't trust myself well enough yet
to tell her how I feel. I'm thirsty. Her lips look wet. Or scorched.
She's quivering. She's afraid there's no source. She's wrong.
We're already at the source, and she's still thinking in terms of a
journey. She's afraid she'll never arrive. She already has. We
arrived together. The world here is now, without walls that
matter. I accept it. Perhaps I even like it.
What a shame. He's more vulnerable than ever and doesn 't
know it. He's not even aware that part of him slipped into me
through the holes in my eyes. He thinks the holes were illusions.
They were real, and now they've closed, and he's been dimin–
ished. I'm glad, though, that he's begun telling me he loves me. I
only wish I had the nerve to try to kill him. But I don't.
If
I did, I
would be equal to the love he pretends.
I can't seem to stop sweating.
She's naked. I love her. She's moist. She's alive. And in good
spirits now, too. She was hanging from the ceiling again earlier.
And several times she dropped. Almost on me.
It
cost me my
breath, but it made her laugh. In fact, she laughs a lot lately,
especially when I tell her I love her. But I laugh too.
Last night Jerome died inside me. He's going to do it again
tonight, he said.
Last night I felt a spider leave. Marshelaine took it from me
and then discharged it in the toilet. I think we both felt better for
the transaction.... I keep fogging up. The big event I was
expecting hasn't occurred yet. I'm not sure it will, but I'm
