Letters - 14 / 15 Dear Partner

Dear Partner,

This is a letter, sealed from this moment, perhaps this is who I am now, and not who I will be when we meet one day tomorrow. I have no partner at present, I am seemingly walking this strange line again of being a diligent artist, a faithful worker, and a very confused, adrift soul.



I think I am perplexing. There are days I am an artist, or a writer, or creative. There are also days where all I want to do is lay flat and watch the lazy play of stars across the night sky. I cannot explain it. I often want affection, but some days I cannot stand to be around humans. I would beg of you to be patient with me. I often don’t know who I am, moment to moment.

I have a chip on my shoulder. You probably already know this. I am uncomfortable in my own skin many days. I’m viscerally aware of my race, the color of my skin, my hair, the shape, and look of my eyes. I am aware of my culture and I both unequivocally love and resent it. I think it shapes me, and it’s hard to digest. I have complicated feelings with its expectations, and in the darkest moments of myself, my own understanding of my failings with my culture. I’m afraid I will press you with these things I can’t explain, these old wounds related to my skin and the pain in my heart for it. I am also worried that my perceptions of culture are outdated, are too ‘traditional’ and are at odds with a modern world.

But they still mean something to me. Even though sometimes I reject them, and sometimes I embrace them. I have a lot of pride, and a lot of shame about it.

In public, I am outgoing and loud, and I know I am personable and can be charismatic. I am used to people, and telling jokes. I am trained at being sociable with many people, at eliciting laughs and sharing stories. I have lived much of my life around entertainers and being entertaining.

With you, and with only you, I may be shy and quiet. I will be very different in a lot of ways than the person you see in public, with other people, with strangers. I have always been this way. I know it will be jarring. And I’m sorry. But I swear I will do my very best by you, to stand by you, to give you space, to support you in all you do. To listen to you, really listen. To make mistakes, and forgive myself, and most of all I will accept you, for who you are, who you were, and who you want to be. If we are partners for true, I will be there for you.

I will be your wolf, loyal to a fault, but yours. That, I promise.

Yours.

This letter took three weeks to write.