Take Me As I Am

Take me as I am. Not as you expect. We often have expectations in other people, not always intentional, but we do. It’s disheartening when the other doesn’t meet the expectations we placed on them. Yet they aren’t responsible for the roles we force them into. 

So I’m writing this to you, the reader, to take me as I am. Without expectations. 

If we’re just meeting for the first time, my name is Weasel. Don’t ask me how I got my name or what my real name is. It ain’t your business til I tell you. 

I got a bit of a story to tell. A long, sometimes weird, story. Like all stories, they get fucked, and they get there fast. And honestly there’s some fucking here and there too, so be prepared for sexual content. I ain’t a fuckin’ prude (though I know a few who are). I guess the polite term would be sexually conservative, but who the fuck the cares. 

I vape. I’m in and out of depressive episodes. And I can be a pain in the ass (literally to some people), so bear with me. 

I was in an emotionally abusive relationship. I’d like to think it didn’t start that way, but that’s what this journey is all about. That’s what any journey is about, ain’t it? Discovery. The Good. The Bad. The downright fucked. It lasted seven, maybe eight years and ended a few months ago. When you’re in something as extensive as that, it ain’t easy to let it go. 

We aren’t always wired to let go. That’s why you gotta learn it. Loosening attachments to anything comes with practice. 

Currently, I’m with a new partner. Been with him for over a year now, and he’s the best boyfriend I’ve had. I often wonder how I got so lucky. 

But before I talk about these past several years, I gotta start at the beginning. I gotta start with J. J was sort of my first romantic interest. We never officially hit off as boyfriends, but we were interested in seeing where it’d lead to. As short lived as J was, he was fairly memorable, and hard to let go. 



Through poetry I’ve written about several of my encounters with him. Poetry is how I cope. It’s a way to process; a way to think and get the gunk out of your skull. I wrote about him, a lot. Made a book, making a point to utilize all my books of poetry as new chapters in my life, even the smaller chapbooks being a section of it. 

I don’t have a picture of us together, though I wouldn’t want to plaster his face here. Not after so many years. But this is how our story starts. 

I met J online through a website called FurAffinity. He had just started posting art and it wasn’t half bad. He did a piece of my character, and we started talking from there. 

J. was a sweet guy. We flirted a few times and I asked if he wanted to meet up? I was down to fly somewhere new, being in Texas for so many years you start to want to see a new scene. He lived up in Michigan. We agreed and decided to see what would happen. 

The town he was in was rather small. One of those “everything closes on Sunday” type towns. And everything did fucking close on Sunday. We did a fuckton of walking. It was march, and snow was still on the ground and I was like “why the fuck is there still snow in March.” Being from Texas, snow really isn’t a thing. 

I remember a couple of dates at a few chain restaurants. When you’re 21 you don’t really know what a date is. Let’s be real. My first date with J was at a Chinese restaurant, some chain buffet with ok food. 

When I think back on it. It’s mostly a blur. I see him clearly, I see the dim lighting, and I see the snow through the window. But the rest, the food, the atmosphere, even our conversation was a blur. 

I remember he took me to a house party, another fur from FA was hosting and it mostly filled with people who were awkward around each other. There was this one lady, fuck, she had to have been high. She was so obsessed with this song by the Scissor Sisters, something about wanting to dance to a song about not dancing. It was a catchy song, but fuck, she was really into it. I remember it weirded J out. I don’t think he was into anything drug related, even as something as harmless as weed. 

The next day we walked to a coffee shop. There wasn’t a lobby or anything so we had to hang out in the drive thru and grab out drinks. It was cute, we huddled together cause it was cold. It was the first bit of affection we had shared with each other. We stayed huddled together for a good bit of the day, through horror movies and cheap food. 

The trip came to an end shortly after. I remember not having any sexual chemistry with J. We hit it off well as friends, and made a damn good first attempt at starting a relationship. But that path wasn’t for us.