You’re Weird.

Dear Little Susana,

You’re weird.

No, for real.

You’re weird.

…and we like it.

Nobody cares like you do.

And why would that ever be a bad thing?

Nobody thinks like you do.

And you have the best ideas!

Nobody questions like you do.

And you find out the coolest things!

That soda can, rolling down the street.

It’s sad.

So, you’re sad.

Sad that it’s alone and sad that it’s on the street.

Guess what?

Nobody else thinks that.

Nobody.

That can… is alone.

Like you.

But, why not care as much as you do?

Why would that ever be a bad thing?

Why not see the tree and be grateful?

Nobody does that.

But, you do.

And why would that ever be a bad thing?

Why not take an extra piece of candy?

Not because you’re greedy.

But because you want to take one to your mom.

Maybe she’s never had this kind before.

And why would that ever be a bad thing?

That dream you have?

To write?

Everyone hates that in school, remember?

That’s not cool.

But, you have the biggest imagination.

Faraway worlds and beings are so close to you.

And why would that ever be a bad thing?

It’s not cool to appreciate your culture.

Your mom’s music is lame.

But it calls to you and you want to understand.

Why would that ever be a bad thing?

You dig holes in the dirt.

That’s weird.

But your joyful.

And why would that ever be a bad thing?

You see things. People.

I remember.

That rosary you found under the ground.

Under the tree.

That tree where you saw the boy.

The boy, hanging.

You’re scared, but you wonder.

You care about him.

And why would that ever be a bad thing?

Nobody else sees him.

Takes the time.

Time to listen about your discovery.

But, you care.

And why would that ever be a bad thing?

The blind person on the bus.

The kid in class that doesn’t speak English.

The cat that had babies by your house.

The houseless man that everyone has disposed of.

The worm that is on the hot sidewalk, minutes from death.

The leaf that came off that tree and now isn’t with its family.

The piece of art that was thrown in the trash.

Nobody else cares.

One day, a box was built.

A box that had a rule written on the side:

Nobody cares!

The box gets smaller as you grow.

It tightens around your neck.

It tightens around your head.

It makes noise now because you’re not listening:

nobody cares!

But, you do.

Your mom, the boy, the man, the worm, the cat, and the tree.

You care deep and we have fun.

You care deep and we have joy.

You care deep and, yes, you’re weird.

And why would that ever be a bad thing?