I am tired. What would you have me do? Stop drawing things like that? Done. Even though many have asked for such things I have not drawn another since I was told it was bad. Not, of course, that I was told why it was bad, just that it was transphobic and wrong, and more importantly, that it was hurting people. So I stopped. Did you ever check the dates? See the distance? Do you each think that you are the first to send me such messages and such insults without reason?

I… am sorry. I wish I could be more than… this. These words on a screen. I am more than that. I should be the hand on your cheek and the warmth of a hug, but it is not this way, and for that I am sorry. You are human, and as such I would do everything for you, for you deserve to be happy. It pains me that I cannot whisper these things to you, and instead force you to read these words in a tone I didn’t mean. And I know, for every insult slung, I receive the support of a hundred more compassionate, lovely, wonderful people. And it means so much. But I was not built for this. I am weak, in ways I fear you may not be able to understand. At least, not yet.



I do not know what you hoped this message would accomplish. No, that is a lie. I know. I can see your heart. You don’t want to be alone. Humans are like that. We cannot stand to be alone in happiness, so we are generous. We cannot stand to be alone in sadness, so we keep our words away from those who want them. And we cannot be alone in anger, either. The actions of your kind proves this. The weight of this answer should fall on your shoulders, but it does, and that is another thing for which I am sorry. Oh well. Regardless. If you wanted me to stop drawing, so be it. You could have just asked. I have business to attend. Good night. Sleep well.

