Crayola taught me something

I am not you , nor will I ever be .

I do not fit in this puzzle of regularity ,

though you try to push and squeeze , bend and break , you cannot mold me into something

I

am

not .

My heart beats , thump-thump - as yours ; yet there is something different

a different attribution to the thud

a unique structure to my own cells , a diverse awakening to the blood rushing through my veins -

we call this personality , character , so many words to describe a single fact :

we are all different .

And me ?

I am different too . Different from you , and from anyone else , and that is me . I like me .

And I like you , being you , because - you aren't me .

We are all brightly colored crayons , tinted one way or another , some of us chipped , broken , taped together time and time again .

To each their own , shade . Color . Disposition , inquisition , existence .

ME , that is all I know . I cannot know you or the reasons you do as you do or why you are a different color than me - but God gave me empathy , or is it sympathy , or apathy , so many -thys to describe a human understanding that we just know ;

and I can try to understand your life , your hopes and dreams and fears and I can assure you that it will be alright .

My sister bought me a crayon maker for Christmas . Melting , mixing , recreating new colors and schemes and realities , a mixture of one and another , as lives melted into each other .

You , and me , and everyone that you or I will ever know or see or come across .

We may be a single shade , a single color , but we are impacted by so many others , and so many others impact us , that by the end of a well-lived life we see nothing but an explosion of hues , a combination of lights and darks , friends and enemies , hope and fear , love and hate .

We are not perfect .

You and I , we are not flawless .

But , God , we're beautiful .