How do I redraw the lines? How do I explain? I am not the same person. I will not remain so for your comfort, the price is too high. I am welted and scarred from years of trying to be everything every person needed all at once and I have grown so used to being what someone else needed that I can no longer find my own shape. I was good at it, yes. A reliable chimera, fitting my form to the mold, twisting my self to suit the situation. And I was good at it, yes, but time has hit me like a blow to the chest and forced me to reckon the cost of bending, and stretching, and distorting over and over and I have finally peered in and seen the slow loss of discrete structure and the resentment and grief that has built up and fractured in the places where, instead of standing, I knelt and took every bit of pain and wanting and choice not my own and tried to make it mine and fretfully told myself I was content. I am not content. To yield at times is not so great a thing, but to yield and yield… I will not change so much. I cannot, though at times I wish I could. I will still yield. But I am learning to acquiesce, to bend and to give, in both its meanings, only when I truly wish it. I am as human as they come and an entire life as a chimera would be a short one. If you love me as you claim to do, bend for me this once. If you must, take your time and re-learn to love me properly, not as merely an artful reflection of yourself. Love me as a full person who may not always be in sync for I have my own rhythm and mind, my own moments of great anger and despair, my own weaknesses which I shall no longer abjectly apologize for. I am allowed to be weak and am allowed to be strong and my needs need not be subjugated for fear of inconvenience. And if the word no in my mouth is something you cannot abide then leave, though I will mourn the passing. I am better off without those who only love me for the ease of my yielding.