I’m Just Like You

I’m an emotional person.

Dramatic.

Expressive.

There’s no question about it.

Any human,

No matter who they are,

Or what they’re knowledge of me is,

Could read my personality like words on a billboard and recognize that I am indeed an emotional person.

There’s no issue with that, 

Right?

Wrong.

You see,

At the age of 17,

A boy who spends his time writing his feelings out on a piece of paper instead of trying to impress everyone but himself with how much he can lift is considered a bitch.

You see,

A boy who is a senior in high school and is a virgin because he respects women instead of gloating about how many girls he has slept with in the past six months is considered a pussy.

You see,

A boy who would rather listen to a melody that moves his soul and speaks to his experiences instead of loud vibrations that destroys his ability to listen to what’s really going on in the world is considered a loser.

Why?

Because the social norm has defined the word “man” as a competition.

Who’s bigger?

Who’s got more talent?

Who’s got the better game with the ladies?

Who’s got the better style?

The better this,

The better that,

But you see,

What the social norm leaves out is it’s not about how big your shit is between your legs but it’s about learning how to be a god damn human being.

So,

I do poetry.

I listen to sad music.

I write my feelings down on a piece of paper.

I’ve been to therapy.

I’ve taken medication for depression.

I know all of the words to the High School Musical movies.

I love to watch the sunsets.

I get a drink at Dutch brothers that’s peach flavored.

I watch Grey’s Anatomy.

I’d rather walk on the beach on a warm Sunday afternoon, listening to the waves crash sending the silhouettes of life through the sounds of its impact, than sitting on the couch watching the football games on tv.

So what?

I’m just like you.

I’m a two sport varsity athlete.

I weigh 160 pounds, run a 4.4 thirty yard dash, and can squat 215 pounds and that’s not even my max yet.

So what?

So maybe I would walk through a field of flowers, smelling the beauty as it enters my body and flows through my soul like an endless river glowing with light blue.

So maybe I would drive on the freeway for hours with no destination in mind just to sing as loud as my vocal cords allow me to instead of trying to find the words to explain how I’m feeling.

Maybe I would write a song about love and play it on an electric guitar just to prove that an emotional boy is not separated from men.

I’m just like you.

I’m an emotional person.

Dramatic.

Expressive.

Anyone could see it.

Men in society created a billboard with the  wrong words pasted on it,

If I could fit this entire poem into just the right amount of words to fit in a billboard for society to see,

I’d put a picture of me.

The words rest next to my face, but the message delivered with my eyes.

They say,

“I’m just like you.”