12 February 2014
I loved your letter. There are so many things there that I want to touch on, so give me some time to think about it. For now though, I want to share with you something I wrote sometime last year, as an answer to your question. I don’t know why I didn’t say it then. I don’t know why I am saying it now. Perhaps I felt a little too naked before, and that would have been too much?
I wonder what’s changed.
I don’t think anyone in my life has seen my full self. I mean–I suppose they see glimpses. All of them real. But it is not all of me. I don’t think I have ever let anyone that close. I don’t think I can, even. I don’t think I know how. There are days when I am a fist, and that is all there is.
There have been a few times when some of those who are closest to me are surprised if they learn something about me that seems out of character–that is, it doesn’t fit with everything else that they know about me. The reaction is always the same: you’ve changed. Or, this one is said with more outrage: how could you have changed overnight? Sometimes, I don’t know the answer, too. R. offered some insight: that maybe I haven’t changed, that maybe I just chose to reveal this part of myself at this certain time, that it has always been there, that I have always been that.
It’s not that I want to leave people thinking I’m a mystery. (Can a person even do that?) I think it’s because I don’t even know who I am, really, half of the time. I think I am also still discovering and exploring all my other selves, peeling layer by layer, and I don’t think I will ever get to the end, even after I’m dead. I think there are parts of me that I will never reach, that I will never get in touch with. I think some of them are existing in other universes, other lives.
30 July 2013
FOOTNOTE: I think it would take awhile for me to gather the courage to say this.
Now it seems I finally have.