Lurking in the Closet

Every day you haunt me.

Every time I look up, there you are, right in front of my face, taunting me. All 30 inches of you will not go away! I have tried to make it work, but we are just not compatible. I know my family wishes I would bring you home with me one day. I just cannot do it. You are clingy, and short; you make me feel uncomfortable. You always seem to attract attention; I hate it. With you, I never feel comfortable in my own skin. You are perfect for so many women, even for a man if he so chooses. Any person would be lucky to have you. Unfortunately you and I do not work. Anytime we are together I feel exposed, vulnerable, judged, questioned. You are frilly, flowery, and colorful; you stand out. I tried, we tried, but only for special occasions can we be together. You are beautiful, just not beautiful with me. We are too different. I am a plain tee-shirt, button down, occasional bowtie, jeans kind of person. You lurk and lurk in the closet and I am forced to stare at what the world wants me to be, what is considered normal; but if you are normal- acceptable- then I am not. I lock my closet until it is time to take you out. I like you but right now we do not work. Maybe one day I will open my closet and let you out, but until then please obey my wishes and stop taunting me with what the world wants me to be, showing me everything I am not but have tried so desperately to be. I have slowly accepted and understood that it is okay to be exactly who I am, but I still look at you and see what is normal and attempt to play the façade every once and while. I am not ashamed, but every time I open my closet I see you there waiting for me. We are not compatible and I am not sure we will ever be, not matter how much the world wants us to be.