Dear You,
I told myself that it was because of my father that I fell in love with you.
I loved him in the unconditional way children typically love—without acknowledgement or understanding of flaws. My father’s flaws became part of my definition of all men.
Once I stopped loving you all by default, I started loving you out of obligation.
According to history you were wounded and incapable of functioning at full capacity due to those wounds. I wanted to love you to wholeness. So I would not participate in any behavior that might further infect those wounds. No “brothers ain’t shit” poems would come from my pen; I turned up my nose at that venom.
I could not bring myself to say anything to or about you that I thought might reduce or call into question your masculinity. I figured that was being done to you already from all…
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