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To all whom it may concern:
I consider myself a patron of the arts, and engage my mind in higher pursuits for the joy of knowledge.
I maintain my body in concert with my mind, staying well-muscled without growing boorish.
I do lounge in low company, but endeavor to be of a stately bearing in mixed company, and am gentle in speech in all places.
I argue in the traditional meaning of the word only, for I am fond of polite debate and spurn the sourly-manged dogfights of heated words.
I ask of others first, only mentioning my pastimes if their mention is sought after.
When asked, I do not ramble, brag, or spin falsehoods.
When I escort my date to various amusements or fine dining, I foot the bill discretely,
without drawing attention to the sizeable paycheque that comes from my respectable employment.
I understand that repetitive "I" statements are off-putting, but feel as though they are applicable in these words.
I am grateful for your fortitude for reading thus far.
My life is charmed, but for this one spot that mars: I am unsure if one may be a gentleman, and also a woman.
I am perfectly at ease with my gender. Truly, I prefer it to all others, and would be loathe for it to leave my possession.
I still wish, however, to be of your number.
Do my thoughts grow foolish? They are content to wander as they may, and have arrived in eerie hemispheres often enough.
This longing has been a constant companion for some number of my years of drawing breath, with no answer in ready sight.
Patiently, and gratefully, I await your answer, kind sirs.
As sincerely as she may,
A Ms.