On some days like today, it's easier to remember what I'm not rather than what I am. I know I'm not the flashing lights at the storefront, guiding the people to where all the hustle and bustle is happening when they're looking for a better time - or the anticipated green light after a rush hour spent in stopped traffic. I'm not electric yellow. I'm not the playlist blasting through the walls. I'm not the echoing voice of the announcer, and I'm not being announced. I'm not the edge, and I'm not on it either.
But then I reframe: what I am is a phone number with a hometown area code, recited by heart; the candle holding on when the electricity is out and the night knows it's not getting any younger; the message from a doctor bearing good news; the sigh of relief. I'm the same shade of red that grows into a bonfire, crackling behind the conversations that lead to ones that will mean more. I'm the five minutes between real life and the alarm. I am the reminder to myself that being not has never been the same as being less..
