❝𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧❞
@𝚊𝚙𝚜𝚡𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚘𝚗
A perfect person doesn't exist, but a person trying to be perfect is. And I don't belong in those two. I'm not perfect, and I'm not trying to be perfect either, but my parents want me to be perfect. "Cleo, maligo ka na may aattendan tayong party." Sabi—wait, I mean utos nya sa akin. "Okay po Mommy ihahanda ko lang yung susuotin ko--" "No need Cleo. May damit na dyan, and it's so beautiful. I'm sure you'll like it." She smiled and left me in my room. I faked a smile and nod. Hindi nya man lang ako tinanong kung ano ang gusto kong suotin.
"Perfect!" Mom exclaimed when she saw me wearing the gown that she bought me for the party we're attending tonight. That's the cursed word.
"Be confident, smile and be graceful, etc. just act sophisticated and be perfect like you always do." Paalala nya bago kami bumaba ng sasakyan.
That's what she always says bago kami magpakita sa mga tao, and Dad wasn't doing anything, even though he knows what mom has been doing to me. He would always say "it's for the better". I'm sick of this 'perfect' role. I really do.
And I did it. That night I've done many crazy things. Getting drunk, eating like I didn't ate for weeks, showing all my flaws like no one cares, but then...
"What on earth are you doing Cleopatra!" mom shouted after dragging me out of that cursed place. The place where they can see me as a perfect rolemodel, a perfect epitome of beauty, a flawless person.
"Why mom? I didn't do anything wrong." I said, but then mom slapped me, and Dad just left us like he doesn't care. "Ayusin nyo yan. Nakakahiya sa ibang bisita." He said.
"Wala? Wala kang ginawang mali?" she glared and looked at me from head to toe. "Pinahiya mo kami ng Dad mo! Alam mo ba kung gaano ka naming ipinagmamalaki?! Ha?"
"Hon, sa bahay na yan baka may makarinig pa sa inyo. Nakakahiya." Dad said and lead me to our car. Napakuyom ako ng kamao. Tinitiis ang mga masasakit na salita mula sa kanya.
"You're a disgrace! Do that again and we'll disown you, I swear Cleo." Before the car move its way, kaagad akong lumabas at tumakbo palayo. I can't handle it anymore. I want to leave that place.
"Cleo! Come back here!" that was the last thing I heard before a truck appeared, driving its way towards me.
"Cleo!!!"
I wish I'm not beautiful. I wish I'm not born like this. I wish I can tell them that perfectionism doesn't make me feel perfect and proud, that it suffocates me, that it makes me feel inadequate.
'I'm sorry.'
