Human of the Year.
I've always wanted to win.
But there's that hush and that rush and the announcer says what the neighbors have hoped wouldn't be spoken. You've won again.
It's only a contest in my mind I know, but somehow it matters that you win over me... every time. I haven't decided, but I might like it that way.
Human of the Year and you've won.
I make a decent human.
My grades say so. My parents say no. So I guess that lands me somewhere in the middle.
But you used to wonder if I was half god because I had some magic magnetic pull or something. And I can do math like a pro.
Where's that magic pull now?
And I might've believed you if I hadn't lost in the end.
So now I see I'm human because when I saw you dancing at prom, I swore for the second time in my life because, you were beautiful. Even if you weren't dancing with me.
And I could feel that I'm human when I found one of your red hairs on a shirt I haven't worn since that Tuesday and I kicked a hole in the wall.
My mom was gonna pass out.
I know I'm human because the look on her face still is hilarious to me.
I know I'm human because I get anxious.
I know I'm human because I can't stop myself from writing a thank you card after everything.
I know I'm human because I slip in the shower.
I know I'm human because I keep shaving the mustache that isn't there yet.
So you've won the award again.
You, Human of the Year again this year and you're probably just sleeping in your bed right now, completely unaware.
Yeah so. You've won the medal and you were nice, but you were wrong.
Because I'm just human and I won't believe I'm any more than that now..
Because even half a god could grow a mustache.
And I can't.
