CHAPTER THREE

And on his bed, he laid crying as the journey inward began and voices started talking to him, "We are friends who journey with you. We will help you get through, because you will behold many things. You will face a great darkness. Your death is what they will try to bring."

"I'm going to die," he cried.

"You must know Death to know the Life."

"Why would God chose me? I am what humans condemn?

Excerpt from the unpublished manuscript, "The Michael Memoirs"

When Roland and I were roommates in Los Angeles, before San Francisco, he didn't like Lazarus after Lazarus had pulled one of his selfish stunts. Roland is very protective of his friendships. The way Lazarus and I broke up caused me major grief. The night I went to a concert at the Hollywood Bowl with Tamara and her father and Lazarus, something was wrong. I was in a leg brace and still using crutches from a motorcycle accident. Lazarus had distance and attitude where he didn't want me near him. During the concert, I lost myself in the music and then realized he wanted to break up. I could hear it in the music telling me this. So I asked him as he was listening to the concert if he had something to tell me. He said no. I pressured. He said this wasn't the time. We broke up that night. It never is the right time.

I cried for a two years. We made a feeble attempt at trying to make it work again. We went to a party. He ignored me the entire evening. Lazarus left me standing by myself. I was upset with Lazarus the way I am pushed into a corner when he is with his surface friends. I usually sit alone. When it comes to insecurities, I was overflowing. He said we had separate lives. These things were important, his life with his family, schooling, his career, his friends and then me if his schedule permitted. He admitted the first night we met he was selfish and had to have things his way. It didn't matter because I didn't think our encounter would lead to anything of substance.

Now, I don't want to make it seem he was at fault. It's a mutual blame. I will own up to my issues. If I had acceptance of myself then, Lazarus and I would have had a different outcome.

Lazarus felt my love was suffocating.

I felt totally separated from life without him. He made it clear he could go on without me which he has. I felt no sense of being without him.

I always denied this.

Lazarus was white. White guys I have date have had a superiority attitude towards people of color. Their attitudes in all areas seems to be "handouts of understanding" when it was acceptable among peers. To him, I was exotic, mystical and had a strong intuitive sense and femaleness about me. I was conscious of race and intelligence. I've never felt accepted by him. One of his friends remarked "If you were going to go with somebody black, why not someone muscular."