RANSVESTIA

Two weeks went by, two weeks during which I alternated between delightful fantasy and foolish depressing boredom. One time I'd marvel at how pretty and girlish I was. Another time I'd feel like an idiot, a simpleton dressed in its mother's clothing-tottering in heels, smeared with lipstick, pretending to have breasts. I'd get all made-up, girdled, bra'd, pantied, stockinged, eyebrows penciled, lips painted, nails lacquered. I'd walk across the room feeling like a girl ready for a date, when my fantasy would collapse, leaving me no place to hide, no way to escape from my shame. Especially if Sally were there, I'd see the look on her face and know how contemptuous she was of me to have fallen into her nets.

And yet she wasn't. I realize that it was my own sense of shame that made me attribute most of her contempt to her. Actually she was very gentle about it. Even when I went all out, she took it pretty much as a matter of course.

From time to time I asked her to return my clothes. She'd look at me and tell me that I didn't really want her to. In a way she was right; I wasn't really ready to give up all the pretty things I had.

Still there was something I wanted that I didn't get. I wanted her to sympathize with how I felt, with my delight, with my wanting to share her secrets. She accepted my dressing up, but she didn't really share it. I wanted to talk to her about our common problems, like snagged stockings and tight girdles. I wanted her to ask to borrow my things, to treat them not as playthings, but for real. She didn't.

It was two o'clock in the morning. I couldn't sleep. I had tried to crawl in with her, but she hadn't let me. I had tried to dress up in something special, but everything had grown commonplace, even the black chiffon. I lay in bed, tormented with wakefulness, but unable to turn to anything that would satisfy my wakeful craving.

I got up and went to the kitchen. I wasn't really hungry. I picked up a book, but put it down after a dozen lines. I opened the door, and looked out into the empty hall. I got dressed again.

"What on earth are you doing?" Sally called.

"I'm going for a walk."

"You're what?”