The Things That I'm Not

I’m not tall and I’m not a dude. I’m not Russian, not religious, not good at math.

I’m not a bad driver and I don’t have a degree.

I’m not shy or quiet, never that. Not good at finishing things or responding to texts either.

I recently visited my hometown - it’s not big, nor close, it doesn’t have a McDonalds.

I prefer not going there, in all honesty, but it was one of those family gatherings you’re not supposed to miss.

My cousin had a birthday, you see. He’s not a teen, and not expelled from uni for cheating anymore.

He was gifted a car by his mom and dad. Not married anymore, not poor, usually not on speaking terms.

It was a whole thing you see, we had to gather around, watch his face like he did not expect such a surprise. Oooh and aaah, it was not an old car, not used either.

I was not standing at the front.

“What a bummer it’s not blue,” I said.

One of my aunts (not married, not a mom, not good at intersections) did not find it amusing. “But it’s a hybrid, it’s brand new.”

“But white is a great color,” chimed in another one (not an atheist, not kind to animals, not good at sarcasm).

“Oh, my bad, I thought it’s the nots that matter, not the buts.”

They both looked at me the way they always do. Not kind, not proud, not sure.

“But I guess I wouldn’t know, I’m not you.”