I Am...

I am...what am I?

I am sixteen years old and live in a not-big not-small town, but is that who I am?

Am I defined by numbers, by location, by circumstance?

I am a number to some...only a number, nothing more, nothing less, but that is not who I am.

I am...different.

Quirky,

Indefinable.

A scientist.

Optimistic.

Passionate.

This is part of who I am. But what we believe, what we think is only part of who we are. 

I am defined by circumstance. 

I am defined by pain. I am defined by pleasure.

I am...broken. But who isn't?

Hardship. Loss. Joy. Stress.

So much contributes to who I am, how could it be defined by words? 

Little pieces of what we love, what we pour our hearts into...do we not become them as well?

If so, I am...foggy mornings.

Rainy Sunday mornings.

Loud music.

Quiet music.

Bittersweet endings to the good days.

All of these contribute to who I am. 

Experiences, Passions, Objects, People.

It all contributes to the complex, unique, one-of-a-kind, me.