Why don’t you go find her, instead of making her out of me.
Find yourself a southern belle, that blonde beauty who'll laugh at just the right time and let you dote on her, and own her.
Find yourself a desert rose, one of those cactus flowers you find in the part of the world where it hardly ever rains.
I won't be that for you.
I want to be the mustang, the horse you never could break.
I'll never be your country girl with her yellows and oranges, the pale lavender of lilacs and the soft blue of the sky like you want me to be.
No, I want to live life in every shade, in red like blood, pink like the neon lights, and green like my backyard.
I will be vibrantly rash! Make decisions based on my turbulent emotions and then try and take them back four hours later.
I will walk like I have somewhere to be, damnit, because where I am going is important.
When my classmates see me at our reunions, I'll smile at them, those normal people, and treat them like they’re just as important as I am,
because they are.
I will bring out my inner Monroe, Millay, the Bettie Page I know lurks beneath my surface, and shock the world with what I have to offer!
I will rebel against a stress-free environment, because anything that's ever worth having comes with a price.
Something I don't think you ever understood.
Arguments with my husband will abound.
If I'm feeling adventurous, I might even throw a plate or two.
My sex will be rough, intense, beautiful, soft, glorious, and varied!
When I will cry, I will cry like a four year old who drops her ice cream in the dirt,
And I will always buy my four year old a second ice cream when it happens to her.
The laughter that flows from my mouth is loud, honest, and happy.
Why didn't you ever listen to my laughter?
But maybe this is all my fault.
Maybe all of our fights, all of our differences, our expectations and who we were together hinged on one slight miscommunication.
Maybe this is all my fault.
I never told you I was wild.