A Letter to My Wife, Regarding My Recent Fondness of Taylor Swift
(Yesterday, the undersigned was discovered, by his wife, in questionable circumstances. Subsequently, he felt the need to address the situation in letter form.)
Something happened last night that neither of us, out of obvious embarrassment, has had the courage to broach in conversation. This being the case, I've decided that it is perhaps easier that I, as a writer, address the incident in written language so that we ("I") may be spared the mortification of a long and drawn-out conversation.
I have always considered myself a manly man, but that manliness has begun to wane some, by historical standards, recently (as you may have noticed); whereas when I was younger, I would find myself embroiled in the occasional and admirable bar fight (during a night on the town), these days, I am only ensnared in such scuffles vicariously, as an avid spectator of television (Netflix). This gradual softening, if you will, has something to do, I believe, with an incremental depletion of testosterone—which I am now experiencing (being over the age of 30)—for they say that it is that hormone, in particular, which is the origin of a man's virility. I would like to think that it is this aforementioned decline that also serves to explain yesterday's "unflattering behavior," on my behalf: I know that it is unbecoming of a man—a father, no less—to be discovered in the bathtub, with eyes closed, listening to Taylor Swift's new song with conspicuous relish, but that is, nonetheless, what happened (you are not deceived). It is only that Taylor Swift's new song, "Lover," is a great song, full of feeling and artistry and wit (I invite you to listen for yourself).
I assure you, however, that I do not intend on going ALL SOFT (I will continue to lift weights, drink beer, watch football, etc.) but would, nevertheless, appreciate your support—as opposed to your ridicule—in my inevitable transition to a less masculine but more "rounded" individual.
I suppose, in the end, that manliness is what a man makes it. The noun is his, and the adjective, too.