if i were not me...

i would quit my job.

pack up my things.

and head home to wellsville.

because life makes more sense there.

if i were not me...

i wouldn't care that he never writes to me.

i wouldn't miss him every day.

and i wouldn't want to fly to paraguay to kick him, then kiss him better.

if i were not me...

i would take back what i said.

i meant every single word.

but i didn't mean for it to ruin one of the best friendships i ever had.

if i were not me i would get out of bed.

i would explore the salt lake valley.

and i would try to find a new friend.

if i were anyone but me, i wouldn't have eaten brownie cookie bars for breakfast.

and then pizza for lunch, fifteen minutes later.

i would have showered. i would have painted my toenails.

and i would have primped.

i wouldn't act like a six-year-old.

i wouldn't buy my teddy clothes and drag him around.

i wouldn't buy new things as a remedy for a bad day.

i wouldn't cut my hair when i remember too many painful things.

i would be okay with the dark and going outside.

i would fill my time with people instead of DIY projects.

i wouldn't obsess over boys and jeans and madagascar quotes.

i wouldn't use "ouch Charlie," and "i really like it," spoken in a british accent in nearly every conversation.

i wouldn't drive five hours for a best friend's birthday and completely ignore another's.

i would like holidays.

and i would have a normal family.

i wouldn't giggle and secretly wish to scream, "That's what she said!" while eavesdropping on conversations in wal-mart and ikea.

i wouldn't follow people around, wondering how they found each other.

i wouldn't give strangers my telephone number in public places.

i wouldn't know how to change my oil and then prepare a fancy dinner, all in the same afternoon.

i wouldn't stay in bed all day, listening to the rain.

i'd go outside and dance in it.

i would sit still in church.

i would have a tan.

and i'd do something about that extra ten pounds.

but i am me.

and these are a few of my quirks.

they make me who i am. and i am a fan of who that is,

though i'm not always quite sure exactly who that is on any given day.

boys don't seem to like who i am.

but that is not my fault. or my problem.

i don't have the faintest idea of how to be anyone but me.

nor will i try.

i don't care if people think that i'm hiding. or ruining my life.

i am not doing these things.

i am being me. in the only ways i know how.

if it looks like i'm hiding, i probably am. and i can admit that.

i don't wear a mask. i just change a lot. and i'm pretty sure that's okay.

if that is not enough, if i am not enough, then that is okay.

because to someone, i am enough.

and my quirks are perfect. and my imperfections are perfect as well.

i am perfect and amazing just the way i am.

i am perfect because i am trying.

i am perfect even though sometimes i fail.

i am perfect. simply because i am me.