Here’s what you need to know about me: I am perfect.

“Goodness, are you sure you’re alright? That’s quite the fall.”

I am better than you in every way you can imagine.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”

It’s funny, actually. No one ever realized that.

“I’ve band-aids in my car if you’re—”

“No, it’s… it’s fine.”

There are just too many normal people all around.

“Come on, look at your fingers!”

“What? Oh. I’ve had worse.”

It gets dizzying sometimes.

“I’m offering to help you.”

“And I’m refusing your assistance.”

“Why? Why are you punishing yourself?”

“Punishing myself? You’re the one who chose to pull up in nowhere. What’s your deal?”

“I—I’m trying to help you! I am a good person, why can’t you let me be a good person?!”

“Is it so difficult to just get on with your life like everybody else?”

“Yes, it is! It’s hard to consciously be an asshole. If you don’t let me help you, then I… I…” You sighed. “I won’t… like myself.”

“Oh.”

I felt stupid. On the outside, of course. Internally I was still the good person. You had expected too much of me. I hadn’t even known you.

“I’m sorry. This is, uh…”

“No, I get it. It’s my fault. I’ve been on edge lately.” That was a lie. I couldn’t have been at fault. But at that moment I needed you to see me as a normal person would. Maybe it was pointless, though. “Could you, er, drive me home?”

“Sure! I was worried you’d never ask. Hop in.”

I don’t like being around normal people. It feels like I’m constantly talked down to, when the opposite should be happening.

“Where are you headed?”

“Oh, um… any place would work, really. Just need to get out of here.”

Sometimes the bile rises so high I feel sick and have to excuse myself.

“Here, patch yourself up.”

“Thank you.”

When I am alone, I become a sample of some galactic species of perfection, surely cast by mistake into the formidable human world.

“How’d you end up here, of all places?”

“Well, it’s a funny story. But it’s long.”

“We’ll be on the highway a while.”

“I don’t wanna bore you with my tales.”

“What makes you think I’d be bored?”

“I dunno. Just something about the way you act.”

“Um… alright.”

I belong out there, somewhere on that blurry spot in the sky. Not here. The humans are horrible. They all think they’re special, but they don’t even know what that means. I do. I am special.

“Was that mean? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t take offense. Still interested in your story though, despite what you might think.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Honest.”

“I… don’t believe you. I think you’re just asking to be polite.”

“Well, yeah, in part. But I do care. You can’t have just materialized from thin air in the plane of abstract nothingness.”

“Haha. Yeah.”

“So what is it?”

“I…” Maybe I wasn’t cast here by mistake. Perhaps it was punishment for my rebelling against some grand regime that governed the species of perfection. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what?”

By that merit I am even more perfect than the other perfections.

“I don’t know how I got here. I was lying earlier. I think I’m still lying. I don’t know. I don’t know anything.”

I am the single most perfect being in the universe.

You kept driving for another while. The landscape was eerie. It still haunts me, the way it almost judges you. I grew not to be afraid of the way others saw me as a person. I didn’t care if they thought I was insecure or reserved, because I knew that, deep down, I was beautiful. But it still irks, that judgement. That constant itch you feel, that you’re under perpetual scrutiny. You feel it too, don’t you?

No. Sorry. You wouldn’t feel it. Only those who have reached perfection will understand what I’m referring to. When you’ve no way to improve yourself, and yet the human instinct…

It’s confusing trying to put it in layman’s terms. When I was still part of the cosmic perfection, I knew a protocol that could describe anything and everything in very short lengths of time. I could explain the color red to a blind person in the blink of an eye, and they would understand red. If they spoke the protocol, that is. But now I speak the language of man, which is awkward and confusing and filled with many unnecessary rules. Only thing language is good for is poetry.

“How long does this road go?”

“Till the end of time.”

“Really? Heh. Droll.”

“I hope you, uh, don’t mind being with me here.”

“What? No, not at all!”

“Well, you’re awfully, uh, reserved.”

“I don’t mean to come off that way. It’s just difficult to, er…”

“Hm?”

“Look, everyone has issues. You can’t fall asleep on a stranger’s shoulder.”

“I guess. Uh, can you check the time?”

“Sure. It’s, er… 9,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999.999999?”

“Ah. We’re right on schedule.”

“Really?”

“Yup. See that temporal vortex of integral definition up ahead? In just a few seconds it will point to ∞×0. Last time anything remotely as interesting occurred was a lifetime ago, though that was 0×∞.”

“Neato.”

As it so happened, your car broke down mere moments before we entered the virtual void, and the vortex collapsed.

“Aw, damn. Missed it again.”

“So… what now?”

“I dunno.”

Then we waited for a few days in the car. Rather uneventful days, they were. You said nothing. I said nothing. I began to get sick of you, and it was weird, because I remember I was especially sick of you. I’d never enjoyed the presence of someone less than I had yours. You were special in that way. I adored it. At some point I realized the immense power you had over me, and I got scared. I wanted to go home. But you didn’t, so I didn’t.

“Hoot, hoot hoot; hoot hoot, hoot; hoot, hoot, hoot, hoot; hoot. Hoot hoot, hoot; hoot. Hoot hoot, hoot; hoot. Hoot.”

A fluffy white owl had perched on the side mirror, and for a while been peering at me through a pair of ebony eyes. I almost couldn’t see it against the null, but it was definitely there. All its impurities stuck out. Its feathers were uncombed, and its beak was an uncharacteristically ugly shade of brown. Perhaps this is the only thing that differed between nothing and something—that nothing is perfect, and something isn’t. Does it follow, then, that I am nothing? That I don’t exist?

No, that would be silly! Of course I exist. I can think! I have thoughts! If I didn’t exist I wouldn’t be thinking these very words that you’re reading on a screen. Right?

So maybe the owl was perfect. All the impurities were idealized, after all. The brown beak provided contrast against the owl’s pale feathers. Something poetic, in an intentional way. And the owl clearly existed, otherwise it wouldn’t look any different than the nothing around it, so there must be things that are perfect, myself included. Everything exists for a purpose, and thus everything is perfect. Yes, that’s right. It would be difficult to even imagine something that is not perfect.

And yet I was more perfect than everything else. I was the furthest from imperfection one could ever hope to be. The furthest from this mysterious abstraction that was truly—

“Hey, look, a bird.”

“What? Oh. Yeah.”

“We should follow it.”

You got out of the car. I felt proud of myself, that I could extract such philosophical ruminations from the mere sight of an owl. As opposed to you, who saw it only for what it was—an owl. You were wrong. It was an owl, but there was so much more to it. You were so shallow-minded compared to me.

“Are you coming?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been sitting there for the last two minutes nodding your head. C’mon, it’s getting away.”

My face got red for a moment. Because you caught me in my, uh, my introspection. You could never understand how I felt.

We followed the owl for some time. Its movement was eccentric and unpredictable—sometimes it would hover still in the void, and whenever we’d near it, it would take off only to soon perch in another, more distant spot in the void.

“Forest.”

“Huh?”

“Do you see it?”

“No.”

“Ah. Right. You wouldn’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think I’m different than you. That’s why I’m seeing it.”

“Seeing what? What are you talking about?”

“Okay, look, what is the most different thing between us?”

“Er… I’m not you?”

“That’s a given. What’s something that would really make you feel more like me if you were to change it?”

“I… I really don’t know.”

“C’mon, it’s not difficult.”

“Well, if you know the answer, why don’t you just tell me?”

“Because then you wouldn’t understand. It has to come from you.”

“Ah, so it’s a ‘change must come from within’ kinda situation.”

“Sure. Just think about it: what’s the one thing that, were we to both possess it, would bring us closer to unity?”

“Well, right now what I would really like to share with you is the knowledge of the answer to your riddle. Is that a valid answer?”

“You’re almost there. Think, why are we even doing this in the first place?”

“Because you’re seeing something I’m not. Oh! Is that it?”

“Yup.”

“Okay. Great. Good.” I looked around hopelessly. “I’m still not seeing it.”

“What about now?”

“I—oh, shit! What the fuck? What is this?!”

“Hey, relax. Everything’s fine.”

“No, no, this isn’t fine! Oh, I have to get out of here! This is horrible!”

“Shh… it’s going to be okay.”

“Please, I don’t belong here! I… I…”

“Everything is going to be okay.”

“I wanna go home…”

“Everything will be okay. I’m here.”

I cried. Your hand was on my shoulder and I cried. I didn’t want to open my eyes. I couldn’t.

“Stay here. I’m gonna go get some supplies.”

“No, please—”

“It’ll only take a moment. Promise.”

Before I could further object you disappeared. I was crying and you left me. I couldn’t forgive you.

Days passed. I couldn’t stay angry at you. I needed to go to the toilet. The owl led me to a wooden restroom. I skipped in, only to be hit by a repugnant stench. Moreover, the bowl held no water, only a miniature rift in the transfinite continuum. Disgusting. Who’d leave a toilet in such a pitiful state?

I bet it was the owl. No wonder it had led me down this ruinous path, that quotidian nightcrawler! It expected me to look after its mess, well, no siree! I won’t have this! I shan’t listen to the imploring laments of the simpleminded commoners!

“Hey, you!”

“Hoot hoot. Hoot. Hoot.”

“Yeah, you! I’m sick of cleaning the shit you leave behind! Have you no respect whatsoever for me? I don’t deserve this! I am not your servant! You should be ashamed, you lazy commoner! You’re neglecting your responsibility as a person to care for the greater good! You’re just like everyone else! I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate—”

“Hoot, hoot, hoot; hoot, hoot, hoot; hoot. Hoot. Hoot, hoot. Hoot, hoot, hoot hoot; hoot, hoot. Hoot, hoot; hoot. Hoot hoot, hoot; hoot. Hoot hoot hoot; hoot hoot hoot, hoot; hoot, hoot hoot, hoot; hoot; hoot, hoot, hoot; hoot, hoot, hoot hoot; hoot. Hoot hoot hoot; hoot hoot hoot, hoot. Hoot, hoot hoot, hoot; hoot. Hoot. Hoot, hoot; hoot. Hoot.”

The owl disappeared. I didn’t see him flying away. I was ruminating on his final hoots. There was something so… ugh. It was frightening. I felt really bad. I felt like I didn’t like myself. I think I didn’t like myself. In that moment all the self-respect I had just…

Who am I?

“Oh, there you are!”

I turned around, and you were there with a big backpack and a stack of logs in your arms. “Oh. Hey.”

“I brought some stuff. We’ll have to spend the night here.”

“Why can’t we sleep in the car?”

“What car?”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry. I know you don’t like this place, but—”

“No, it’s okay. I’m just…”

“Hm?”

“I’m not sure I belong… well, anywhere. I’m not sure I belong with you.”

“Oof. That doesn’t sound fun. I think you’d better ponder that over a pack of marshmallows.”

“I, uh…”

But before I could protest I found myself sat in front of a warm and colorful fire, roasting a pair of marshmallows on a skewer.

“Hey. Smile.”

“What?”

“Smile.”

“W… why?”

“Why not?”

I tried allowing a curve onto my lips, but it emerged hyperbolic.

“Sorry. I’m not feeling it.”

“Why not? Is something wrong?”

“I’m… I don’t… gosh. Are you happy?”

“Happy? Right now? I mean, not particularly. I’m content, I guess.”

“Have you ever felt happy?”

“Yeah. A few times. Have you?”

“I’m not so sure anymore.”

You went silent. There was a weird moment where the smoke froze in the air, and everything felt abnormally normal. Did you notice it, too? You must have, right? It wasn’t something you could just ignore. No, it was beautiful. I wanted to say something about it, but I… I couldn’t. I wish you did.

“Uhm… look, I’m sorry I left you alone earlier. That was stupid. I know I probably don’t show it, but I do like you. I’m just—”

“Do you like yourself?”

“I… no, I don’t.”

“How do you cope with that?”

“Well, there’s no rule saying you should like yourself, right? You don’t have to be the perfect you. I don’t think you need to strive for that, even.”

“But if I don’t like myself, why is anything worth anything?”

“It’s not. Even if you did like yourself, it wouldn’t be worth anything. That’s not what it’s about.”

“Then what is it?”

 

A cosmic blink passed by, and the trees grew weary with life. It all corroded behind me. I missed everything. I missed myself.

Now more than ever I wished to be by your side once more, sitting by the warmth of the fire and by yours, feeling the cool breeze wash over us. It felt so beautiful. Why did I cry? It was so beautiful!

Maybe I took it for granted. It was my fault all over again. I was so deep in my own thoughts that I didn’t realize everything that surrounded me. The shadows that danced on the treetops danced for nothing. It was all for nothing. Stupid, stupid me.

And you were there, and you were perfect. You said you weren’t, but you were. You were complete. You were okay with yourself, and you knew everything that was to know, and if there was something you didn’t know that’s because you didn’t need to know it! And when you were sad it was okay, because you had good reasons to be sad! And everything I didn’t like about you was void, because every bad quality you had was in some way good! And if you asked anything of me and you weren’t satisfied then I felt bad because I knew I should’ve been better to you. I appreciated you so much and I never knew how to express that. I wanted to hug you and kiss you and tell you how much I love you. I was scared you’d hate me. I was so focused on myself.

I couldn’t fathom the fact that you didn’t like yourself.

And when you told me you didn’t like me, I wanted to be surprised. But I wasn’t. Not because it didn’t happen, but because I felt it would. I “knew” it would. I knew it would.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

The vortex had opened again. You visited the void for some reason.

“How’s it been?”

“Tough. But… I think I figured it out.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I think I love you.”

You stared at me for some time. The vortex was closing again. You wouldn’t miss it this time. Then you sighed, and your eyes returned to the road.

“I hope that one day you’ll find your peace.”

“I want to come with you.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t belong out there. You belong here. I found you here. But I found myself there, and that’s where I’m going.”

“What’s the difference? All voids are the same. It’s all an ambiguous mess of nothingness. No one belongs anywhere. But I belong with you. I know I belong with you.”

“I hope that one day you’ll find your peace.”

“Please, just give me a chance. I can make this work. I’ve never felt this way about anyone else.”

“I hope that one day you’ll find your peace.”

“It’s not me! It’s you! You showed me a side of me that I never knew! You showed me the truth! You let me become the best version of me I could possibly hope to be! I think I like myself! Please, please let me like myself just a little more!”

You shook your head.

“I’m a good person! I need you to let me be a good person, so that I can like myself! I need you. I love you. I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.”