I was already over twenty one years old, but as long as my mother was alive my heart was young. She was worried about my getting married. Everything about me in fact was a concern to her. This concern was the basis of my bad habit of relying emotionally on women. My hurts, my happiness, all had to be placed on some woman, as though the feelings would not otherwise have a foundation. They would be left dangling in the air, with nowhere to land.
