I am a girl. I am eleven. My skin is the color of an oak tree. I am black. I am white. I am many things. But I am not normal.

I am always trying to fit in. Instead, I stand out.  I used to be homeschooled, so I know more than the others in my class. I don’t like standing out. People always expect a lot from me. They all want to be by me. But for my knowledge. Not for me.

People say I’m perfect. They are wrong. People say I’m brave. They are wrong. People say I’m beautiful. They are wrong. I’m not any of these things. I’m just a girl. A girl who needs love.

My name is Addy. It means beloved. I don’t know if I’m really beloved or not. People say they love you, then cut you to the core. If I was really beloved then my daddy would bother to ask me If I had a good day, or if I’m getting good grades. If I was really beloved my parents would have the courtesy not to scream at each other in front of me. Sometimes, I wonder what beloved means. If it means how I am treated, then I am sorry for anyone who is beloved, like me.

I´m not always happy.  People think that if you are smiling, you are happy. I´m almost always smiling. But I'm not always happy.

When people say they love you most of the time their lying. At least, that’s how it seems to me. It hurts so bad when you find out. Even though I expected it, it hurts every time. Even though my mother told me not to get my heart broken, I didn’t look before I leaped, and now I’m paying the price. Kirk Franklin once said in one of his songs  “I just wanna be happy, but if I keep on giving my heart for people to tear apart the healing will never start so I can be happy” and he was right. I’ve realized that no matter what, a perfect life is a fairytale, I’ve believed for to long. I’ve always wanted to be perfect. That’s probably the reason jesus fascinates me so much; he was perfect. And now I know I’ll never be close.