Dear Friend,

This letter is written to you not as a lover but as a friend. I have of late often wanted to just sit down and talk to you as a friend but I never seem to step out of the role of lover long enough. I have wanted a shoulder to cry on but have instead sat alone with my tears.

I think you and I have a great relationship as lovers. We also have an oddly tender yet tenacious friendship which I don't understand but have learned to accept. I require nothing more than you are wanting to give and seek to change nothing. I simply accept you, accept us as we are. But please be careful. My total awareness and acceptance does not mean I have no feelings but rather, that I like you enough to accept our relationship as is, that I care enough to live with the choices you make.

I know our limitations, I understand our relationship. I am simply being selfish and taking some time to talk to a friend, to share some of the turmoil of my life. And maybe, just maybe, after saying it I can let it go, move on in a different direction.

That quality in me that men find so exotic, so attractive, that sense of differentness, I have come to hate. Does that surprise you as much as it surprised me? Yes, I enjoy the freedom to explore it affords me, the uninhibited enjoyment of life it brings. But at what cost? Sometimes I just want to be cared about in a more simle way, an ordinary way. If only someone would . . .

- play silly board games with me in front of the TV
- take me ice skating or go-carting
- help me pick out a refrigerator or shopp for groceries
- share me with their friends and family and I could share mine with them
- hold my hand when I'm scared or hold mee close when I'm sad
- share life's most intimate wonders and it's most painful sorrows
- for once be my soulmate in addition to being my playmate

But that is not the story of my life. It's not how anyone sees me, it's no longer how I see myself. But sometimes, on rare occasions like today, it hurts. Life seems to be somewhat tougher than I think I can bear alone and I falter. But tomorrow is a new day, the next day a new year. Life goes on and I will again, hopefully, find a smile where I least expect it and all will again be right with my world.

Thanks for the shoulder.

Bn.