The reasons, asking questions, and the way things are

There are scars on my scalp. They're easily felt, if someone is close enough to me to have their hands in my hair, on my head. If I trust enough to let them place their hands on me. I am...disinclined to give that permission often, without a reason. There are reasons for that. Will I always explain myself? No, not generally. Do I have anything to hide? No, actually, I don't.

I'm not ashamed of who I am, of my past. Do I publicize it? No, there's no reason to. By the same token, I don't have it tattooed on my forearms or forehead. And some of that past I can't remember. Whether people believe that or not? Is irrelevant to me now. The people who matter to me know and understand. The people who will matter in future? Will also know, and understand, and to them I will most likely choose to explain myself.

It was brought to my attention today that I simply don't give a damn about who people were five years ago, ten years ago, however long ago it might be. I care about who they are today. I don't need fancy explanations of what brought them to the point they're at in their lives, if I choose to accept them into mine. I don't need to know who they were. I'm not big on labels, nor do I care what someone did.

We've *all* made mistakes. No one is perfect, and if you claim to be? Then you're a liar, because *NO ONE* is perfect and pure. We're all flawed in one way or another, and that's what makes us all human. And I'm not looking for someone to be perfect, and pure, and flawless. Human is just fine with me.

I have no room to judge anyone for their shortcomings, gods know I have enough of my own to fill a book. I simply want to know the person you've made yourself now, and see who that is. I'm curious that way. What makes your mind tick? What do you think about, when you're watching the people go by? Why do you like the color blue, instead of the color green, and why? Or vice versa? Those are the things that interest me.

I'd like to know what your favorite foods are, and whether you can cook them, and if not, why not. Do you not like cooking? Or do you simply burn water, and it's your mortal enemy, the way baking cookies is a failing of mine.

Do you sleep cuddled close to someone? Do you roll to the edge of the bed? Steal the covers? Sleep rolled in a blanket? Do you sing in the shower? Hold conversations in your head about inane things like whether you remembered to feed the family pet? Stupid details that build someone into a person, myriad things that make you, *you*.

Who you were ten years ago? Would any of those answers be the same? Probably not. I know that most of mine would not be. I'm not altogether sure of that, but I'm betting most of mine would not be.

And for that reason, I simply don't care about the details of who you were. It's why I don't need to ask all the questions most people feel a need to ask, and are just itching to know every little thing about your childhood, and that sort of thing.

I don't need someone to ask me a million questions about a past that I can't answer, even if I wanted to. And because of it, I don't want to ask a million questions about a person's past that I realize, more acutely than most people, doesn't make a person who they are today.

You truly can make an entire life for yourself, independent of anything to do with any aspect of a life lived a decade ago.