I am from the darkest kind of loneliness, the kind that creeps up and buries itself within the spaces between your ribcage and your heart.

I am from "don't speak too loud, boys don't like loud girls" and "don't be too quiet, guys like girls who are a little spunky" to "if you wouldn't have wore that outfit, he wouldn't have went after you"

I am from bloody knuckles and writing on the wall; Barney Adams?

From being too afraid to walk outside alone, I swear I didn't mean to kill the damn dog.

I am from the consistency of always being too much or too little, but never the right amount.

I am from hearing songs and reading stories and wishing that I was a part of them instead of who I am.

From staying in bed with closed shades for months to ripping the shades down and opening windows, I can hear the birds singing and I feel the breeze on my skin.

Only not really.

I feel alive.

I am alive.

But only sometimes.

I am from taking ten minutes to order my food just because I can't decide what I want.

I am from treating hallways and street sidewalks as if they were interstates, speed walking, but still running slower than an original Programma 101 desktop computer (1960 edition of course).

I am from "ten more minutes" to "can I please just stay home?"

And from loving so hard that my love physically pushes someone away, I am sorry.

I didn't choose to come from this place.

I swear I meant to do better.