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Perspectives of She Who Wished to Be Perfect

How far will self-doubt take you?

By Monique StarPublished 5 years ago 22 min read
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Cheri and I had never fought before. In fact, to prevent most conflicts in our relationship, we mostly resorted to compromises when we reached disagreements, we allowed each other to have social lives beyond our relationship, and she even recommended we keep locator apps on each other's phones to evade rapid texts asking where we were. I guess we weren't prepared for everything, though.

She seemed really nervous for the past several months and I wasn't sure if I did anything wrong or if there was a way I could help her. I told my roommate, Tommy, about my worries and he mentioned the idea that she could've been having an affair. I didn't think about that idea much until that evening I lashed out on her. All she did was ask it would matter to me if she were to disappear and, without much control, I quickly stood up and shouted at her asking if she was trying to find the right time to break my heart. She appeared upset, so she stood up as well, grabbed her jacket, shoes, and purse, and headed out the door. She told me she was going for a walk, which she usually does to blow off some steam, and she closed the door behind her.

I headed back to my apartment, then to my bedroom after a while. I lied down on my bed staring at the ceiling while solving my 8th rubric's cube this month and occasionally glancing over at my phone on my bedside table. She usually texted me to let me know if she got back from a walk. The next day, I kept my phone on a high volume and kept staring at it. I even looked away from it as if it were a pot that would boil if it wasn't watched. I even sent some small text messages to her, but I got no responses. It was probably late afternoon by the time that Tommy finally spoke up.

"Okay, fine, the idea of Cheri cheating on you was irrational," he stated.

I felt so stupid when I heard that. Tommy and Cheri have butted heads many times even before she and I got together. Not only that, Tommy has made minor attempts to sabotage our relationship before, so why did I not see that coming?

"Clearly, you're as concerned about her as she is loyal to you. If you want to go out and find her, be my guest," he finished, and I heard a slight growl from him before I grabbed my keys and rushed out the door.

As I was driving, I used the locator on my phone to track her down. I was prepared to throw Tommy under the bus while settling things with Cheri. Tommy was the kind a person who had a lot of pride in himself, so it was really tough to openly disagree with him. He also lacked any term related to "calm" in his personal vocabulary and is too stubborn to go to therapy, so the disagreements between him and Cheri could be further understood.

When I saw on my phone that she was a walking distance away, I parked my car to the side of the road and took a good look at my surroundings. I knew I was outside of town, where there was barely any interference of man regarding nature. I was aware of how far she'd have to walk to get there as I was aware that she was able to walk far distances if concerns regarding such were the last of her concerns. Since I trusted that she'd never take a vehicle anywhere if she said she was just going for a walk, I should've known better to trust that she'd still be faithful. As I slowly got out of the car, I saw a tree was a little ways back and the area surrounding the road had tall grass and different types of plants and wildflowers. I found myself thinking, "If this is where she walked to to blow off some steam, I can understand her choice of location." After double-checking my phone before placing it in my pocket, I crossed the street and slowly entered the field of tall grass and wildflowers.

Not really knowing what to expect, I carefully looked around while walking until I heard a slight "crunch" under my foot. When I crouched down to see what I stepped on, I found myself lifting a familiar pair of magenta-colored thick framed glasses with an orange bridge, but with an earpiece barely clinging on the hinge. I knew she'd be upset once she found out about her glasses being nearly broken, but, more importantly, I knew she was close by. I figured that, since she was known for occasionally having a case of "butterfingers," she felt like carrying her glasses in her hands and they somehow slipped out of her grasp, so, I didn't give it much thought. However, after taking a few more steps, I felt my toes touch another item, which, as I crouched down to see bits of chunky black cloth-like fabric and a black handle, I recognized as her purse. I felt certain that something was unusual. Cheri rarely ever took off her purse in public. By the stretched-out handle of the purse, I saw a book that had a cover that was black apart from a scatter of white dots. As I slowly picked it up, I took notice of the facts that it looked more like a journal, it wasn't thin nor thick, and (in height and width) it was bigger than a pocketbook yet smaller than a spiral notebook used for school. Since I had a gift of speed reading, I explored as much of the journal as I could before the sun went down. I opened it and came across the first page of writing that I recognized to be in Cheri's calligraphy:

I'll admit, I still don't understand it completely. I always thought that this stress was only something that just blew over once I got through high school. At least one thing I did that was smart was keeping my therapist, Sammy's, number in my phone. I told him about the evening where I randomly woke up at 1 AM pondering over if I really am worth spending time with in Jeff's eyes. Jeff, my first time falling in love and everything else along with it. I mean, I'd always wondered how someone like him could love me, but not to the point of questions waking me up. I've felt unstable before and Sammy knows that, but I can't risk it by telling Jeff. Sammy told me that, since I decided against going to discuss the situation with him in person, I should at least write to get my thoughts off my chest and to let him know if any other signs of stress occur.

I flipped through some pages (fronts and backs of them) at different speeds in shock. I had never heard her speak like that before or mention calling a therapist. After flipping through pages, I came across a page that seemed to have more answers.

Sammy told me he had an idea of what I'm dealing with, so he recommended I keep track of the stress signs I'm experiencing by making a list of different occurrences.

Jeff once wanted to hear me tell some stories from a book I reread (what he considers a cute activity) and, once my dumbass fumbled over easy words I read out loud, I calmly walked to my bedroom, closed the door, and punched through my bedroom window. I think I picked some glass out and wore a glove until Jeff went back to his apartment. Once he was gone, I placed my hand under running water and felt relieved for being born ambidextrous, but I doubt that's important.

A couple of times when he spent the night over at my place, I woke up with my half of the bed covered in sweat, so I ended up slowly climbing out of bed to get some water and satisfying the need to swish it all around the inside of my mouth before swallowing it and walking over to the couch to try and lie down with the spare blanket on me. During some of those nights, it was hard for me to slow down my breathing, almost as difficult as it would've been if I were crying. When Jeff wakes up to find me on the couch, I just tell him I had a nightmare I didn't feel like talking about and keep myself from interfering with his plans for the rest of the day.

I knew I used to mentally beat myself up severely when making mistakes on assignments in school, but if Sammy's right about this anxiety I might have, high school stresses might've been minor in comparison. Once again, he suggested I probably tell Jeff about it, but it feels kinda like a paradox: If I felt confident that Jeff would still love me or that anyone could still accept me once more of my flaws came out of hiding, there wouldn't be a problem for me to talk to him about.

I continued to flip through the journal pages with the wish that I wasn't so blind in hindsight. At that point, I pretty much wished I had severe seasonal allergies to serve as comeuppance for something I didn't do or know about earlier. None of the journal entries that filled up one or more pages had dates written on them, but, as the next page I stopped at proved, some of the entries were written on days I recognized.

Okay, so far, he hasn't come back out here to the living room. Anyway, apparently Tommy left to spend the day channeling his frustrations into paintball. In the meantime, Jeff came over to my apartment. We didn't do anything fancy, really, just grabbed some leftover grub from the fridge and laughed at the lack of logic in 'The Simpsons Movie'. I think I'm improving on that plan to not touch him unless he touches me. I should at least be able to eliminate one possible flaw from myself: being clingy. I took some sips of water to ease my stomach a bit and occasionally looked over at him hoping I didn't end up staring for too long. I think he might've suspected something but I'm probably imagining things. Surprisingly, at the part where the song by the Carpenters, "Close to You," played, I actually felt Jeff grab my hand and rub the back of it with his thumb. I turned to see him looking at me with that smile on his face. Oh god, how was it that, out of anyone, he'd be willing to direct such a loving smile toward me? We eventually finished the movie and, a couple of times, I tried to laugh in my free hand so I wouldn't be too loud. Wait, was I loud around him before? Am I too late on that regard?

Anyway, Jeff went to the bedroom not too long ago and I told him I'd watch a bit of tv and get myself situated for bed before I meet him there. At least he doesn't look in my purse, otherwise he would've known about this journal. I might write more tomorrow morning when I'm alone. As for now, I just saw he dimmed my bedroom light low and turned on that Troye Sivan song, so that's sort of explanatory for me.

7:35 AM update: Why am I not used to these nightly disturbances eating me alive? This time, in my dream, my worries took the form of familiar people in my life and they, in their voices, shouted all of my flaws and were shouting over each other. I was running and trying to cover my ears so I wouldn't hear them, but I kept seeing more of them and their shouting got louder. Eventually, I looked behind me to see the forms of everyone in my social circles, including Jeff, and they were all chanting "you're too flawed, you don't matter!" over and over again. I quickly woke up and sat upright clinging on to my tank top-covered chest. My heart was beating so quickly and my chest was hurting badly I was sort of waiting for an upcoming heart attack to take me away.

After a few deep breaths, I opened my eyes and looked over at my side to see Jeff sleeping. I couldn't believe it, then or now. I took a moment to take it all in how beautiful he is. Fresh pale skin like a cloud, coal-black hair that forms its own style when it gets messy, not to mention his eyes (closed, though still etched in my memory) as blue as the wings of a blue monarch butterfly. Someone who was not only this attractive, but also smart, strong in multiple ways, funny, mature and more was actually in my social circle.

I put on some sweatpants from the floor before I got out of bed and went to the living room. After spreading the spare blanket out on the couch again, I went to the kitchen and made myself a Frappuccino while trying to be as quiet as possible. I went back to the couch and set my drink on the arm of the couch for occasional sips. I wish I could say I lied down, but I kept hearing the chanting in my head: "You're too flawed, you don't matter." I eventually heard the chanting in Jeff's voice alone. I grabbed one of the pillows right next to me and buried my head in it, screaming. I thought at the time that I was too well adapted to this hell to cry in the pillow.

I was shocked when I heard Jeff call my name from behind me. I tried to act casual, but he simply asked if I had a nightmare again and all I did was nod as a response. Fortunately, a combination of the knowledge of me having a bad dream and the "exercise" from last night kept him from questioning my drowsiness. I offered to make him a drink, but he declined. As he was getting his shirt back on, he mentioned Tommy probably waking up at any moment. I half-jokingly told him he should hurry on back to his apartment before Tommy ended up erupting. I didn't want him to get yelled at.

By the time Jeff was almost out the door, I called out to him and pretty much just witnessed my body taking control without my mind. Against my own rule, I tightly hugged him. He hugged back, too, but I couldn't tell if he was genuine or if he felt trapped with no other options. For a while, I heard that song about loving someone like you're gonna lose them in my head, which is appropriate since I keep worrying Jeff was going to leave me because of at least one of my flaws.

By the time Jeff actually left, I sort of wished I could punch my bedroom window like the last one. I'm such a fuck up, why can't I even follow my own god damn instructions? I feel tears stinging my eyes. I better go cry myself to an attempted sleep before they drip onto the pages.

I felt a lot of emotions reading that section, both good and bad. I ended up wondering how tough it really was for some people to see sincerity in the actions of others. I hugged the journal tautly in my arms as if it were Cheri before skimming through the pages again. I paused again as I came across a section where the words were, once again, hinting to have been written at a time I recognized: The evening of the argument.

Tonight was going to be the night. This was going to be the night I finally tell Jeff about my anxieties after so long of cowering behind the metaphorical stage curtain. Since we were spending time at my apartment this evening watching Pixels again without much focus on the TV, I figured I'd randomly ask him if it would really matter to him if I were to disappear. Regardless of his response, I'd continue by explaining these anxieties I've dealt with for a long while and then fate would take the wheel. I guess fate might've taken the wheel a little too early.

Jeff was sitting upright looking at the tv and I was lying with the back of my head on his leg. Since I knew I had a habit of waiting too long to do a task, I decided to evade it by just going for the question around the part where the giant Pac-Man was terrorizing the city. He quickly stood up, which caused by head to fall into the cushion of the couch, and he shouted at me questioning if I was trying to find the right time to break his heart. I was shocked; I've been nothing but loyal to him and showed interest in no one else but him, plus he never really shouted before. It almost didn't sound like him when he was shouting, so it dawned on me: Tommy must've given him the idea of me being unfaithful. Guess Tommy must be Iago and Jeff is a straightforward Othello. I didn't speak up. What could I say? Tommy wasn't the type to let anyone say "no" to him and Jeff knew him longer than he knew me, so why the hell would he believe me?

I didn't want to yell at him and make matters worse. So, I got up while doing my best to ignore the room spinning, grabbed my thin tan jacket, my purse, my phone out of habit, two water bottles to shove into my purse, and put on my gym shoes. Of course, he demanded to know where I was going and I just told him that it wouldn't matter to him yet I was going for a walk and I told him he could just believe what he wanted. I shut the door and walked away from the apartment building. I thought it would be a good idea to walk outside of town to grow some distance between me and struggles of my past. I took some swigs of water from the bottles and, though my feet kept suggesting otherwise, I kept trying to convince myself to walk slower if I didn't want to risk a heart attack or losing my breath while walking. Hmmm, that doesn't sound too bad looking back. Anyway, I found this oak tree by the road and thought I'd rest by it for the night. Luckily, I still have my phone, so I have light so I could write a little bit more while it's getting dark. I also kept my phone on airplane mode, not just so I wouldn't feel tempted to reach out to Jeff, but because I don't feel like talking to anyone right now. Not sure when or if I'll come back, but I'm sure I'll think of something after tonight.

I looked back over in the direction where I was driving from. That must've been the tree she was resting by. With this inability to rest and need to distance herself from her past she must've had, I had a feeling she wasn't at the tree for long when she woke up. I was more determined to find out where she was. I looked back at the journal and turned one page to the latest entry.

Not that peaceful of a night. Why am I not surprised? Not only did I constantly feel like I was going to be sick (and I sort of still do), but I felt like I was shaking a bit even though it was warm and I had a thin jacket on, so I had more trouble getting to sleep. I heard the chanting in my short slumber again. I had a dream where multiple people I knew surrounded me around the tree and chanted 'you're too flawed, you don't matter' until I could barely breathe. I woke up standing against the tree and placed my hand on my chest again. I faced the tree and just cried while the sun was rising. Makes me think of that Greek dragon thing. You know, the one that grows five heads in the place of one cut off? Or was it two that takes its place? My point is proven by my stupidity: I try to get rid of one worry, but more sprout in its place.

I continued walking a little farther and finished my water bottles on the way. I am facing across the street and my flaws are constantly being shouted in my head along with the chanting. I am more aware than ever that I've always been a burden to those around me. I wonder if fate was really trying to lead me up to this. I looked down the street for any seemingly rare chances of vehicles coming by. At least I pay attention to detail like Jeff does, because I am not aiming for a quick passing, just one involving me suffering for some time before I go.

Anyway, my name is Cheri Strummer. My family lives in the suburbs of Soidelen in the forest green house closest to P.S. 42. Tell them I said sorry for everything. Jeff lives in the Able Oaks Building in Downtown Soidelen in room 329. Even though he might not give a damn about me by now, just tell him I said that I'm sorry for not being better and that I'll always love him. I see a truck of the right size and maybe strength coming this way. I guess it's now or never.

Nothing else was written after that. I closed the journal and stared behind me toward the street. I envisioned Cheri across the street closing the journal like I had and putting it in her purse. She turned her head toward one side of the street. The sound of an upcoming vehicle accompanied the image of her bending her knees and leaping to the lane of the vehicle before I turned away and closed my eyes shut. I opened my eyes and turned back toward the street. I would've felt relief that it was just in my head if not for the fact that her intentions were all too real. I set the journal down, got back on my feet, and quickly walked in the tall grass in search of her.

I turned my head in multiple directions to see if there were any other signs of her. I ended up nearly losing my footing as I tripped over something, well, somethings. As I looked over the objects, I saw they resembled legs. I felt them a bit: one knee felt shattered and some of the denim appeared to be scratched. I moved up to inspect a little more and almost wished I hadn't. I saw that the torso area was covered by what was once a clean, thin, tan jacket. There were scratches similar to the ones on the denim and slight tire marks. I gently pressed the back and arms. I didn't feel any damaged vertebrae, but one arm felt detached from a socket while the other looked like the sleeve was dragged onto pavement to the point where the flesh took the friction, too. Blood seemed to cover the arm from the elbow to the slowly twitching fingers. Once I reached the back of the head, I saw the hair stuck out in all directions some strands came out easily. I knelt down and placed two fingers on the neck. I felt a pulse. It was tough to find, but it was there. I placed one hand on the upper back and the other on the shoulder with the arm still in tact. As nervous as I was to see the face, I knew I had to to be sure. What I saw confirmed everything around me to be a reality. Under the blood-leaking forehead, the pavement-scraped cheeks, dented nose and mostly closed eyes was my Cheri.

"Cheri? Can you hear me?"

I saw her move a bit; she seemed to look uncomfortable as she did so. She eventually looked into my eyes.

I heard a pained scratchy tone in her voice as she responded, "J—Jeff..."

"Yes, it's me. I'm here."

I moved my hand toward her heart to show how sincere I really was in being there with her like I should've been for her. She was wincing as she struggled to lift her more functional arm around my neck. Blood dripped on my neck and shirt, but that was the least of my concerns.

"Please... forgive... me..."

I moved my hand to her upper back and gazed at her for a while before I gently pulled her close to me into an embrace.

"You're not at fault. I should've shown more of how I saw you. Forgive me, my love."

I felt her arm tighter around my neck and I closed my eyes. The hug felt different from other times we hugged: she wasn't holding anything back and my eyes were more open. For a few seconds, it felt like we were in our own little world. It wasn't until I felt her arm slip off my neck and her body go limp that I eventually sobbed aggressively with my head buried in her neck. I constantly apologized to her still form over and over as if it could bring her back. Whatever physical pain she ended up dealing with on the inside that I couldn't detect, I felt just as much emotionally on the inside. Since my eyes were more open on all that happened, I knew that no matter how much I could blame Tommy for the false assumptions that caused me to snap, at the end of the day, I was to blame for not showing my angel that I'd accept everything about her, flaws and all.

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About the Creator

Monique Star

I'm not the most sophisticated adult out there. I'm also not the best at communicating all the time, but I do try my best to get my thoughts out there into the world verbally or nonverbally.

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