Since then, three years ago, I have not had a
happy day or night, and am therefore quite unable to promote
happiness in others. Without my friend, I can find no
satisfaction with wife, child, or home. Life has become almost
unbearable. Often I have seriously thought of committing suicide,
only to postpone it to a time which would be less cruelly
inopportune to others. I see my friend (now married) almost
daily, and suffer tortures at seeing others nearer to him than
myself. No explanation seems possible, as the whole idea of
inversion is so repugnant to him, and being an honorable man he
would feel marital ties preclude _any_ warmth of affection. But
all the longing of my life seems to be culminating in a driving
force which will carry me to the male prostitute or to death. I
can concentrate my mind on nothing else, and consequently have
become inefficient in work and have no heart for play. I know if
my longings could be occasionally satisfied I should immediately
recover, but my fear is that if I killed myself those who knew me
in happier days would only be confirmed in the impression of my
degeneracy and would feel my instincts had caused it, whereas it
is the denial and starvation of them which would have brought
about the result.
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