Mon, 13 Jan, 1997

Milena asked me to marry her last nite at Macaroni Grill. She sed she was serious, but she’d had a few glasses of wine. Then, as soon as we left the restaurant, she immediately began feeling sick to her stomach. By the time we got home, she was ready to hurl, then she spent all night racing between the bed and the toilet. Not a good sign, i’d hafta say.

I did tell her yes, however. Although i’m not completely sure. I mean, i know that yes, i do love her, but i still don’t think i’m IN love with her. & i don’t think she is IN love with me, either. We did miss one another horribly over my week in San Francisco, but i still think she’s just addicted to me. We are each other’s habits.

She said she really realized she loved me on New Year’s Eve, when she was totally frustrated and wanted to tell somebody, but just cdn’t tell anybody but me. Not her mother, not her sister. Not her dad. Me.

& i’m flattered. I AM. & i think perhaps if we can still grok on one another in Dec of 1998, then a marriage wd probably work. The way i see this, this “engagement,” is that we are committing to one another, to try our darndest to work out any problems, to make this partnership thing work. I’m gonna go at it like we’re already married. I want to be married. So here’s my chance to get it to go, so to speak. I wanna know that this is right, because marriage means forever.

Monday nite. Waiting for Mama & Papa to come pick me up here at the Playhouse. Really Rosie starts Friday nite. Or is it Thursday morning? sh*t! I hope not Thursday. Hope it’s Next thursday… Cuz i shore aint ready. Got the Finale music yet, & a whole bunch of orchestrations… Drums, bass lines, strings, etc. Milena’s spending tonite at Sandy’s house so i can do nothing but work on this music…

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