I struggle to differentiate the atypical to the norm as I wonder my experience differs from the so called typical one. The screaming, the shouting , the laughing so I don’t cry as there was once a time my eyes were never dry. Appreciating what I have as I strive for more. The bangs, the booms I am taught from young to run from. These moments which are followed by laughter or silence. Going back to the norm, though I just witnessed a brawl. Being told its typical, a representation of their love, yet I feel the scars deep in my heart as my so called norm becomes a part of me. Do I find comfort in or fear the feeling of being uncomfortable? Struggling to make sense of their analogies. Conflicted as I don’t know what’s next for me, what should I be searching for, my calm after my storm. Wanting to have a future, wanting to grow. As I struggle to focus knowing I can rather than debating my surroundings. Trying to find a balance as I struggle to appreciate the moments yet acknowledge that everything is perfect as I embrace life’s imperfection.