Dearest A.

Dearest A.,

How come I never made it?
Maybe it's the way I played it in my heart,
I knew one day I gotta be a star.
My hopes and all my wishes,
So many vivid pictures, and all the currency
I'll never even get to see.
-Tupac Shakur.

I never cared much for money, money never cared much for me. I was more like a landlocked sailor, searching for the emerald sea.
-Paul Simon.

I'll leave my jacket, to keep you warm, that's all that I can do.
-Tom Waits.

All my life, I've been surrounded by men
who are more profitable than I. Than me.
I've never cared, or really, sometimes I have,
but mostly I've enjoyed my debt-free freedom
too much, and I've gotten so good at living pretty
well on a surprisingly tiny income.

But there are times, A., especially as an older man,
where I've felt like a failure. There are times, too,
where even appearing like a failure has been enough
to puncture my veneer. Painting has never brought in
enough, even as someone who sells well, and I've never
found a way to make it work right for me. Perhaps I will,
probably, I guess, maybe. Maybe I will go live in a trailer
on some lonesome plain, and money won't matter.

It does matter, of course, in the real world. And the real
world will not admire my thrift. The real world will wonder
why I can't just go get a job. Or hustle harder, or paint more,
or whatever it is successful, more profitable men, do.

And so will the ex-wives. So will the lovers, future and past.
So will the profitable men. So.

So you will forgive me, sweet A., if I worry. If I am an often
an under-moneyed and over-sensitive man. If I seem unstable,
I hope you will know that my heart is not, but that I am instead
unbalanced on this good earth.

I am not the same, I am an alien.
-Lil Wayne.

For, truly, A., I am not the same. I have marched to my own
petty drum since whenever, and cared not if the world couldn't
feel me. Of course that is empty boasting: of course I care, and,
in fact, often buckle under the pressure of trying to appear abreast
of those around me. I guess I will find, at such middle age, some way
to bring in steady income, as the world wants me to. Or perhaps I
will live in some happy nowhere, penniless and alone, ignorant
of the pitiable contempt of more profitable men.

There's nothing for me, in this world of strangers, it's all someone else's idea.
-Tom Waits.

Until then, humble, and alone;
lovingly, and forever yours,

m.