As the melody of this resonates in my mind, I think not of a guy but of something missing in my childhood. I began noticing that the composition of my family wasn't the same as other schoolchildren. I allowed my mind to travel and daydream--to venture outside my reality. That premise was the foundation to That Are Not Mine. Here's an excerpt:
That Are Not Mine
I'm glancing at the sky and feeling time pass
While I'm lying on a blanket of grass.
In my book bag, I proceed to fetch
My favorite pad and begin to sketch.
I'm struggling to think of the better times,
But instead, think of the moments
That are not mine.
I'm envisioning myself with Shirley Temple curls
And wearing a colorful skirt that flares and twirls;
I'm yelling gleefully, “I'm on top of the world!
Finally, I fit in with the other girls.”
I'm wishing I'd experienced these magical times,
But instead, these are the moments
That are not mine.
Yes, I was daydreaming.
Source: yourhumblelittlenarrator.tumblr.com
Before I started going to school, I never ventured to know why or find out the true story. Yet, I soon began asking because others began asking. I didn't know what to say when someone asked, "Where's your daddy?" or "What happened to your mom?". I didn't know how to embrace being different back then. All I knew was that I was different, and that being different equaled being stared at and made to feel uncomfortable.
I thought the daydreaming could make me feel better, but in the end, I was really making myself worse. That Are Not Mine wasn't a sweet dream but a beautiful nightmare I kept on replay.
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