3300. Not that I would have had to give up being a kid. I don’t know what would have happened if I had stayed there after constructing the bed. But it would have been too serious, and I was sure it would affect me in a way I was not ready for. It was a situation of self preservation.
Even though I stuck with the bicycle and did not do anything with Mrs.
Sweet in the bedroom that Saturday morning, nevertheless it affected
me. I was never quite the same after that. Nothing had happened, but
I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
I kept thinking about how much fun it was sitting there on the floor
putting that bed together, and I was constantly trying to think of some
way to repeat the experience. I was conflicted. I was afraid of Mrs.
sweet, and I wanted to stay away from her, but on the other hand I
wanted to repeat the experience of putting the bed together.
3303. I wanted to be suspended in that odd place where something strange and exciting is just about to happen any second, but yet doesn’t happen. You don’t want it to happen because if it does happen it won’t be just about to happen.