I think that I think that my life has been pretty good.

Got no dramatic tag line or tear-jerker story

No cancer, abuse, poverty, depression, and I grew up far from the hood

And my family never worked to keep up with the Jones’

Because I was Jones myself.

No picket fence, but it was close enough

And the worst thing I had to deal with growing up

Was my dad smoking cigarettes.

Pretty sure I verbally abused him for not quitting.

 

If anything my life has been too good.

There has been a death or two, but other than that and the cigarettes it has been too good.

 

I grew up happy; I grew up strong

Until I really grew up, I thought the world could inflict no wrong.

 

1997: My mom stopped working to raise us, she said my birth healed her soul

1999: I walked around proclaiming “I was burned in a fire when I was sixteen”—and I’m sure people thought I was a demonized child out of control

2002: By this time I was hiding food around the house, and packing a suitcase wherever I went—so not only had I died in a fire, but I had a lifetime of strange events

2004: I went on my first family cruise to the Caribbean, the tequila was out of this world. But then my grandma died on the day of my First Communion—that dark day just spun and whirled.

2006: Auditioned for my first play, It’s A Wonderful Life, by reciting the best rendition of Three Little Ponies which was accompanied by a fife

2008-2011: Middle School. The end. Except in 8th grade I won the class trial of Native Americans v United States Government and realized I was good at more than just pretend.

2011-2015: Summers at Mackinac Island and dancing at the Grand Hotel, Orchestra Concerts that left the hall ringing, standing up at graduation and applauds that left my heart singing.

 

I am what I am what I think I am.

 

I think I am brave, for getting a friend to turn themselves in for cheating

I think I am strong, for never looking to others for approval

I think I am dedicated, for never missing a soccer game or robotics meeting

I think I am too independent, and don’t always want to ask for help

I think I know tough love, and how to dish it out

I think I’m not as empathetic as I once was, but I think there’s a reason for that.

 

If I were a word in the dictionary, I would be Dalliance.

With each moment of my life I have kissed them goodbye like a lover

And ended the brief romance to find a new form of entertainment

I keep myself interested and never stay too long.

I dabble in every subject, form and role.

 

I am my own Dalliance.

I say good-bye to myself all the time

I say good-bye to the me that was two days ago,

The me that was yesterday, and the me that existed only seconds ago.

 

I am what I am what I think I am…or so I think.

I can list adjectives for days, but they really don’t mean much.

I am a dalliance that constantly says good-bye and hello.

And truthfully, in this lifetime that is all I really know.