Sometimes I feel like I was into the wrong age. Sometimes I feel like I was born into the wrong place. Other times I just feel like I was born the wrong gender. The wrong body. The wrong name. Maybe I was simply born wrong. I’m wrong. All wrong. All left.
People keep telling me how selfless I am. Like an angel. A goddess. Unhuman? Nonhuman? Subhuman? Superhuman? Oh come on.
They are wrong. I am selfish. It’s just not in the usual ways. I’m tricky. Surreptitious. They don’t notice it because neither do I. It’s in my nature.
They are right. I am selfless. I got no self. I’m dissolved. In everything and everyone. I got nothing because there’s no one to have it. I got no one because there’s no one to be with them. I’m dissolved in nothingness. I’m dissolved in selflessness.
They keep asking me how I’m doing it. What? I’m not doing anything. I’m not. I’m not.
I am doing it because I have no choice. I have no. I have wrong. I have left. I have what’s left. I have left what was left.
I am left? Not right. Not remained. Not kept. Abandoned. Jettisoned.
I do left. I can’t keep. Can’t. Won’t. Don’t want to.
I do right. In their eyes. They can’t see what I see. The wrong in me. It’s everywhere.
They have it backwards. They’re all wrong. I’m not selfless.
I’m selfish. I got self. I cry because I do. I cry because I don’t. Because I want to have and because I don’t want to have. Because it’s too much. Because it’s not enough. Because it’s not what I deserve, because it’s more than I deserve.
They tell me how strong I am. I’m not. I’m weak. I’m weak. One smile and I’m head over heels with someone who never intended to evoke love in me. I got it wrong. Again.
They tell me how they love me. I love them too. I have no choice. No choice. It’s who I am. How could I not love. It’s all I have. It’s what I was made of. It’s what God is made of. It’s God.
I’m not strong. I’m weak. I’m vulnerable. Fragile. Fallible. Falling. Fallen. I’m human.
I was born wrong.