Normal

Why do I always hear people say “She is not normal.” “She was always the eccentric one.” I don’t understand what normal should be. I don’t know why they think me strange. I am happy to be uniquely me. Normal. Is it to think, to feel, to behave. To hate, to love, to believe. Like them. Normal. Who are they to judge me on who I choose to love? Who are they to judge me on how I choose to live? Who are they to judge on what normality should be? Please, just let me be. Normal. I laugh. I cry. I feel fear.I feel doubt. I can show confidence. I can show pride. All I truly ask for is the freedom to be me. Normal. So what if you hear me talk to the birds or the trees. So what if I say my dogs talk to me. So what if I look to the skies searching for life on Mars. Normal. It’s not the way I am supposed to be. Cast away the clouds of what normal ought to be. You may discover what an exquisite being lives in me.