The graduate student who had a major crush on Ward liked me for myself; she was kind to me in an authentic way that was better for me then my too tight cleaving to my former best friend, Susan Davison. Susie-- I made Sue, and then her sister, live for me, because I did not really venture forth and take risks. With B---, the graduate, it was of a gentler tenor of mutual appreciation, and I got caught in the middle, between her and my philosophy professor, because she and I bonded, and she got hurt, with Ward and his open marriage rationalizations. I am not saying anything illegal occurred. B--- was of age, but I became the shoulder on whom she wept, and for that, I cannot forgive the not so spectacular instructor at Widener in his sinecured cocoon. Living his theories was a convenience which disregarded young adults like B--- and I were stupid. Though I no longer wear it, I still have the beige windbreaker she gave me before she departed. She had to go back, as she fell in love with Ward. I knew myself better. I was saturated with Jerry, besotted, obsessed in an unhealthy and dangerous manner. He and I are both circling the drain and I'm still writing it, flavors diminished as they may be, but I knew it was closer to intellectual rape as opposed to being Fallen, as B--- had fallen into a desire David was irresponsible to encourage, and I cannot forgive him. In anger, forgetting my rancor toward John for not seeing the woman I wanted to be for him, I told him in anger what Ward had wrought, and Tassoni and I were not so dissimilar in indignation. Tassoni threatened to go to the tenure committee. I attempted to dissuade him as I did not want to be involved and the woman was my friend. What happened after that?
John heads his own department in Ohio. I am a genocide survivor who pisses off Poets & Writers, the philosopher has a goatee, his protege an unfinished rite of passage, three television series rolled into one.
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