Can Love Ever Be A Mistake?

When speaking of the past is it just as bad to worry over mistakes than to remember its glory?



I loved many people during my time in Berkeley; had many friends; had sex with many people; desired and didn't have sex with many others. In a post-free-love pre-AIDS anti-romantic drugged-out it was hard to stay clear in the polluted land of the radical and home of the revolutionary I called Bezerkeley.



Annelise, for me there is a responsibility that comes with even the mention of someone's name on the Internet. I have to believe that as I am talking to you I am talking to Star and millions of other people. I know that every second 5 new bloggers around the world come on line. I also know no one cares about what I write especially concerning my feelings.

So as I remember back to that night in 1976 when my friends and I gathered to celebrate among other things Patricia Luna Wilson's birthday, I think of personal fragility. How life can all fall apart and never return together.




At the party I mingled with many of the Telegraph Avenue regulars. Star and her young friends were in the other room. I had now known Star for a couple of years and believed her to be special and extraordinary. Luna and she had a special relationship that just for me, many years later as I thought about the two young women's spiritual relationship, they seem almost interchangeable or binary.

Don't get me wrong both Star and Luna were complete individuals but were connected. And as much as I respected the wise-for-her-age Luna ... I loved Star.

"Where is Luna?" the first questions at the Party were being asked.
"It's not like her to miss her own party", the comments continued as it got later.
"She worked today, didn't she?"