Sunday, September 5, 1993


Driving home from church one lovely Sunday afternoon, this wonderful woman, who is kind enough to take me to church, asks, "So, what did you learn about in Elders Quorum today?"
"The gathering of Israel," I say, hesitant to go on because I didn't pay much attention in class.
"I love it when you get those lessons that tell you to be good to your wives. Every time you do, Tony comes home and asks me, 'Have I been good to you?' And I say, 'No!'"
We laugh.
"Well, I'm not married," I say, "So the best I can do is be nice to the women at the barracks."

Nice, courteous, considerate, a gentleman. Noble practice for a man who hopes, one day, to be a husband and father.

  • "You are a very beautiful person."
  • "You're looking very lovely this evening."
  • "You look fantastic."
  • "I saw you playing with the little children at the picnic yesterday. I thought that was really sweet. You make me smile."

Sitting in the lounge, watching the T.V., I see a model, an actress, a singer, a woman. She has beautiful lips.
I comment on this and a young woman in the lounge with me says, "You need sex!"
At another time, a man says to me in a similar situation, "You need to get laid!"

How many times have I heard this? How many more times will I hear it?
I don't know. But to all of you who say that I need sex, I have only this to say,
"No, I don't... I need a kiss." And I think I need a hug. I need someone to put her arm around me. I need someone to talk to me. I need someone to listen to me.
A friendly exchange of thoughts, hopes, dreams, fears, warmth.

I think I'm going crazy.
I hope I'm not.
I dream of wonderful imaginary places and turning into people and things that I'm not.
I'm afraid of being alone.

I think... I know... I need a hug. Will you hug me?

If I were two years old and sitting all alone in a field in the middle of a rainstorm, crying: would you hold me?

I'm nineteen years old. I'm sitting all alone in the world, hatred, envy, jealousy, temptation, corruption and danger crashing all around me like raindrops and hailstones and I'm crying. Will you hold me?