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Stella,
1995.Stella
On the jungle gym in a park in the Upper Haight, near her apartment
April 26, 1995
I was in love. He really had a lot to do with me being happy. I had an amazing time with him and I had to write him and tell him about it. He just tapped this thing in me, and I wasn't acting at that point either. I had decided that I wanted to be a baker and have this sort of quiet life. Two days after I met him, I was thinking about auditions. He was beautiful, incredibly beautiful and really cool. He totally blew me away. He made me feel like I wasn't doing shit with my life. I mean I've met a lot of fabulous chicks in my life that might do that and maybe older guys, but he was 21. You could tell that he had shit happen. I hate to say this but I have a hard time being friends with people who don't understand what it's like to have life really be just pure shit.
I still think about the letter I wrote to him on his birthday. My roommate was like, "Stella, you need to go over there and tell him how you feel to his face." She's like 6 feet tall and gorgeous so I could envision her going to his house and telling him but I couldn't do it. I gave him a book and the letter that I wrote. It said, in a nutshell, "this is an incredible book and you remind me a lot of the boy in the story and I wish I had the courage that the boy in the story had and I think that you do. Meeting you made me see a vision of myself that I had forgotten. I've been sad for awhile and quelling my own desire to be creative. Seeing how you're living your life really inspires me." I knocked at his door and he wasn't there. I was just gonna leave it there, then he came riding up on his bicycle. He was really surprised and he sat down outside and read the letter. It was the longest three or four minutes of my life but I sat there and faced the music. He finished reading it and he got up and hugged me. That afternoon I had an audition. I did fabulous. I was like fuck it; I don't care how he responds to the letter. That's not even the point anymore.
Awhile later I spent the night at my friend's house. My roommate comes knocking at the door and he's following her, at 10:30 in the morning! I'm in bed. I've been sick all week. I had shingles. I got it right after I gave him the letter and I went to the audition. It was horrible. I was lying in bed and it was my first day of feeling better. He was like, "I just finished the book and I called to see if you wanted to go out to breakfast."
And that was just the beginning, we played croquet, went to breakfast and we got high. A bunch of us had this incredible day together. We went back to our house and everybody went to sleep and Allen and I stayed up drinking wine and talked until like 4:00 in the morning. We started hanging out every single day. Fooling around every now and then. It wasn't like I was his girlfriend. It was just an amazing relationship. It's weird, it's really a strange relationship and in some ways my therapist didn't think it was all that healthy.
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