The 16th of March 1973 – Boston, Massachusetts

(found in a hat box with the crepe paper and all that)

Dear Nancy,

Thank you for writing. Yes, things are going pretty well for me. Yes, we really should keep in touch more often. I’d hope you write again because you know all I’m good for is a response.

I’m glad you and Ben are getting along so well. The wedding sounds gorgeous. It must have been so much fun, such a happy moment. It’s really a shame I couldn’t get out there to see it all. I’m really sorry about that.

It’s amazing how lonely you can be in the city. I would have never expected something like this to be possible, but I guess it is. I would have thought my tiny apartment would get me outside. I would have thought the parks and the shops and the restaurants would keep me up and smiling and moving.

But it took Tomasso – I’m not sure if you’ve ever met him, and I’m not sure if I ever have either – but it took Tomasso to get me out for once. He showed up at my tiny apartment and told me to get dressed. It was a Thursday, and work was over. It was another night of take-out Chinese. It was another night of sweatpants and wool socks and staring at the television until Carson came on.

And then there was this banging on my door.

He told me to get on my dress – the tight one that I just hate to wear – and get on my shoes – the ones with the heels and the straps that hurt my ankles – and get on some makeup. I was really angry with him, and I wanted to just tell him to leave – even as I put on that dress and those shoes all the makeup, but Tomasso absolutely refused to leave unless I came with him.

Suddenly there we were, in the middle of this club and out on the dance floor. Music was playing. Lights were flashing. Tomasso had me by both my hands and he was swinging me around, spinning me around, twirling me around.

And all the time I felt this bubble growing in my stomach. I couldn’t focus on anything else. Everything was spinning around me and I felt this warm bubble inflating inside of me. When it popped and all this warmth spilled all over my insides, I just started laughing. I had been smiling the whole time, I guess, but now I was laughing, and I couldn’t stop. Tomasso kept asking me what was so funny. I couldn’t answer. I was just laughing.

The whole thing is over too soon. Tomasso stops twirling me around, and he brings me home.

Then I go up the stairs to my apartment. Then I go into my room after this night, after this whole fun, wonderful night.

I’m alone.

I spend a minute looking around my apartment, dusty and dirty and grey with the flickering light of a TV screen.

I can’t believe this is who I am. I can’t believe this is who I wanted to be.

I’ve got to go dancing again.

Hear from you soon,

Marcia

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