Soon

August 1, 1983: The trip is early next week. I´m going back to San Francisco to find my father who knows how thin, how ill. That scares me. I love him and Í don´t want him to be sick. But I´m sad because I might never see my Tia and Luis again. Have had no news, haven´t seen Luis since I told him I love him. That--the fact that I haven´t seen him--isn´t too important right now. There´s still a little bit of time left. If we could run into each other before I go to the airport! That would be something. No, i won´t pressure him or talk to him again. It´s his decision. Either he loves me, can love me or nothing at all. Luis is a grown up, at least. He can make uop his mind and/or his heart--or both.