real talk:

My name is still Addison.

And if you knew me, you'd know I prefer it to the shortened version, but I don't care

because that sounds more sensible on the tongues of teachers & churchgoers.

You'd know I've only kissed 12 boys

and Tanner Alder doesn't count because it was illegal.

And subsequently brief.

And I don't know if we actually kissed, but the student body says we did.

We didn't.

You'd know to keep ketchup away from me.

You'd know why I still flinch at big dogs and wear socks in the summer.

You'd know how much I hate the sighs that come when I ask for a size 00

and no, that second 0 was not an accident,

it's just karma

but I'm not allowed to feel sorry for myself.

They've tried to keep the skinny girls quiet because they don't want people to look like them.

And all this time, they smile at the stocky faces who love their bodies,

while trying to convince the girls with pine legs that 

they were never the definition of beauty.

You'd know that I slept on the football field and wore McKay Chidester's football sweatshirt 

and you'd assume I fetus-crawled into it because it was still too cold.

You'd assume I climbed the goal post, too.

Because I like that sort of stuff.

I tried.

But it was 6:13am and my friends aren't tall.

If you knew me, you'd know how much I cried when he waved goodbye from the porch steps

You'd laugh at my watery nose even though it's not funny.

You would know I hate camping

because nature doesn't cure insomnia, it just heightens paranoia.

And I'm not addicted to anything but sweatshirts

and that hideous blazing heat from the inside of the car after church.

You'd know why I don't turn the A/C on.

And you'd understand why I'm so afraid to travel the country with you this summer.

You would know why the Christmas lights hang around the doorframe of the bathroom,

why I selfishly shower twice a day

why I never volunteer to drive.

You'd know why they stopped asking me to drive, too.

And it wasn't for my sake.

You'd know why I spent those weeks in Belize 

(and it wasn't for the water weight)

And how insecure I really am about the veins in my arms

and Lisa tells me I'm not allowed to be insecure

but who isn't?

You'd know that Lisa is my mother who I haven't publicly called 'mother' since I was 13.

only because everyone says 'mother', 

not because I don't love mine.

I do.

You would know how much I regret kissing the November boy,

how I would've done anything to help December 13 but never did.

You would know how much my subconscious kicks me

until I turn off my humanity

as if there was a switch.

You would know how much I love crying.

How I love the release.

You'd know to feed me wisdom and clever ideas and remind me of all the uplift-able things.

and you'd know how much I don't want you to read that, but I give up.

You'd know how easily I give up.

You'd know the medicated side of me

with thrice the patience and an eighth of the tears.

You'd know how stressed out I get playing tennis.

How my brain is on the brink of hyper-analytical chaos and it's a deep pool

that few are willing to dive into.

I don't mind anymore, though.

If you knew me,

you'd know I loved my lint roller more than the laptop they gave me for Christmas.

You'd know my battery loves the red zone,

my bedroom loves the space heater,

and my bookshelf is breaking because of overexertion.

(I THOUGHT BOOKS SOLVED PROBLEMS)

You'd know how much anxiety I have in compliments.

It keeps me from the podiums and I'm too afraid to take all your nice words

but it's not because I'm trying to flirt with confidence.

The words slush apart like wet paper and I forget what reaction feels like.

But I don't think like that, I promise.

I was cursed with an incessant love of everyone.

If you knew me, though, you'd know that I figured out how to un-love people.

You'd know I still love Harry Potter and bath time

and I've shaved my legs since fifth grade, but never mastered the knees

but I inhale the scent of pine trees

and never do Zoology homework.

But you'd be okay with that,

if you knew me.