I wish I didn’t have to tell you about what kind of person I am.

I wish you already knew, and had always known, and I wish I knew that you knew, without us ever having to talk about it.

God, I wish we could talk about it.

I wish I’d told you a long time ago. I wish that I’d known, then.

I wish that you’d known me for years and years and already had a connection to me before I decided to tell you when I was ready.

I wish your uneasy first impressions of me didn’t have to define the dynamic between us for days and months and lifetimes.

I wish I could have that, without having to put on a mask.

I wish you hadn’t shoved me into a box before you knew anything about me.

I wish y’all would stop telling me that I’m not quite enough like the rest of you, and that I don’t truly belong;

I wish I didn’t have to seek out a place to belong everywhere that I go.

I wish to not be compared to somebody else, defined relative to somebody else, in every moment of my life that is shared with other people.

I wish I didn’t always have to be wondering if this part of me is real.

I wish this part of who I am was not a thing that mattered.

I wish you knew how beautiful it is for this to be something that matters to me.

I wish, so much, that I could tell you who I am. I wish that it wouldn’t change anything.

I wish you could just see me.

💜

I hope it’s a good night.