It was at first that my disguise was a necessity and only used at times when I felt most vulnerable. Hiding my deformites, hiding my malformations- Hiding me. But time wore on and the camouflage I wore became more and more my familiar face. You think you know me; You know only my hunter's garb; You know only my professional gear; You know only what I want you to know. At times, the disguise I wear like Groucho glasses upon my face slips and falls like the tears that rarely slide down my cheeks and you see me, vulnerable, exposed, unsafe. I used to wear this uniform of mine like a badge; I used to wear it with pride. Now I wear it out of habit, or maybe out of fear because I think this camouflage has made the real me rot away underneath all the green and brown makeup. You reach out to me, touch me to connect both physically & emotionally, and I pull away when I'd really love to stay because that would be unprofessional. That would ruin my camouflage. I hate this guise of mine; I wish I could be me again. I wish I could let you see past my projected semblance. I wish I had never borne this guise in the first place.