March, 1974. Auckland, New Zealand.
 
 
 

 

God I wish I had a sort of...'gift'.
 
Well, perhaps 'gift',  isn't quite right, call it a 'sixth-sense'.
 
About people. Well, not all people. Some people.
 
About sizing them up correctly, see what makes them tick.
 
When it came to you, I ran into a stone wall.
 
My first impression was that I had no doubt that I loved you.

 

It was probably my second impression of you which revealed the wall.
 
Then came the fascination, and eventually confusion. Mine, not yours.
 
I've no idea what your first impression of me was, you never said.
 
I suppose it's just as well, I'm sure I was born in captivity.
 
It wasn't your fault. You couldn't know what making me yours would do to me.
 
I'm told beautiful and intelligent women handle all men this way.