It's hard to judge from one letter, of course, what all is going on in a correspondent's life, but in so many of the letters to Mr. Blue, the writer seems marooned on an island of trouble, brooding by the window, obsessing over the novel that won't get written or the opaqueness of the lover or the Great Question whatever it is (Should I have children? Should I eat a peach? Should I wear my trousers rolled? Should I leave New York and go to L.A.? Should I divorce this weasel?), and you suspect that the isolation of the writers is a big part of the problem. You want to tell them, "Maybe you need to get outside more." A person sits by the window and the shadows start to close in and ghosts hover and old sorrows come and whisper in your ear. And the first course of action is simply to get out of the room and go live your life and live it more largely and don't spend so much time anguishing. If you're not actually in the valley of the shadow of depression and you don't require rescue by the Psychiatric Patrol, then you need to attach a rocket to your rear end and light the fuse and blast yourself out of the house. You need to clang around and bump into people and put your dignity at risk and have the adventures you've been meaning to have.  Me, too. But first I'll take up today's mail.

Dear Mr. Blue,

I'm a smart, attractive, well-educated 33-year-old woman with a history of making bad relationship choices -- I tend to date men with high passion but low commitment quotients. About a year ago, I met a wonderful guy: smart, kind, hardworking and quite gainfully employed, noble and honest. One unusual factor (for me, at least) is that he's a Christian -- not preachy, but devout and thoughtful. We were "together" for about six months, and then he decided we shouldn't be sexually intimate since he wasn't sure I was "the one." But when I tried to break off seeing him to protect my own feelings, he was quite upset, so after a thoughtful couple of weeks, I agreed to continue seeing him as "friends."

Now, several months later, we still spend a great deal of time together: We confide in each other, we laugh and very occasionally we even sleep together. He buys me gifts, takes me out and really listens to me. In fact, it mostly seems like dating without (much) sex. My friends say that in light of my record of self-destructive relationships, I should just enjoy spending time with someone who obviously cares for me and treats me well; but I periodically wonder if I'm "settling" for something less than a whole relationship, or perhaps sabotaging my chances at meeting someone who is capable of a fuller commitment by spending my Saturday nights with a man whom I love, but who is clearly hesitant to plunge into a life together.

I should also mention that I live in a city notoriously short on single, straight men -- something that no doubt clouds my decision-making faculties a bit.

What's your opinion on this strange setup?

Saturday Night Lady

Dear Saturday,

The arrangement seems quite convenient for him, but if there's no commitment on his part, then you should feel free to see other guys. Switch him to Sunday afternoon and keep Saturday free to be yourself, a single straight woman. You seem to admire this man but you don't say you're in love with him and so he's apparently an interim figure. He's being slightly less than honest in having sex with you occasionally, given his moral stand of a few months ago, and you ought to call him on it. A Christian is not offended to have his behavior questioned in a loving way. I'm a little confused about your dating history, though -- in the first paragraph you've made bad relationship choices and in the second they've become "self-destructive." It's a long way from one to the other. Why blame yourself for every man you dated who turned out to be a flash in the pan? You choose to go to the dance with him and he turns out to be whoever he is and that's his responsibility, no? 

Maya Angelou reads from "The Heart of a Woman"