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Wishing for Perfect
I didn't really expect that my life would just start being perfect. Honestly, I thought it would take a little while, building up to that aha moment. You know what I'm talking about, right? One of those moments in movies when something happens to the protagonist and a light bulb goes off over their head. An aha! It's like, at one of those moments, you always know that their life is perfect. And I expected that to happen to me. How stupid is that? After having the first fifteen years of my life suck so much. Why did I think that it could possibly change so quickly? You probably think I'm dumb, right? For being so naïve. It's okay. Tell me I'm dumb. 'Cuz I know. I agree, I'm an idiot. Really, you won't be hurting my feelings. Believe me, it wouldn't even be possible to hurt my feelings now. I go through life without feelings, now. That's what happens after so much hurt, you know. You just stop...caring, honest to God, and no matter how much you might want to, you don't feel anymore. That's how I am now. That's what everything I've gone through, everyone that's hurt me, that's what they've done. I hope they're happy. Happy that they've turned me into a shell of a person, not capable of happiness or hurt. Only that droning feeling of LIFE, going on and on. When will it stop? I could make it stop, I know. It'd be so freakin' easy, too. That's what makes is so damn funny. It'd be so easy to just end something, something that's taken sixteen years to just evolve, and change, and create. My life. And it could be over in one instant. One swallow. One stab. One finger straying across a trigger. God. Why can't I just do it then? Why can't I just do it if it's so easy? They'd be shocked, all of them. Poor little Josie, she had the perfect life, what went wrong in her brain? They'd never realize that they had anything to do with it, 'cuz they're so flippin' self-centered, all of them. They'd be like, oh, I wonder who made her do it, ruin her perfect life? And it would probably have been them all along. Perfect. We throw that word around like it's a baseball. What the hell is perfect, anyway? I mean it. We say it all the time, set it as our standard. Why? Perfect is IMPOSSIBLE. I don't care what politicians and millionaires and people on TV say. Perfect is impossible. And anyone who says any differently...just look at my life. You see PERFECT anywhere? 'Cuz I sure as hell don't. Maybe you've got perfect in your life, and I say, great for you. But don't keep shoving perfect in my face, expecting me to take it when it's not mine. Whatever I might be, whatever I've done in my life, I don't take things that aren't mine. Not even when I wish it WERE mine. Like all of your stupid little PERFECT lives. So maybe I'll end my not so perfect one. Like I said, it'll be easy as anything...God, I wish I was perfect.
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