The Perfect Man

My name is Mark, I’m twenty-two years old and I’m the perfect man. I write this because I want my life to be a lesson for others.

I can start my story from several places, but I choose to start at first grade.
Many don’t realize, but first grade is the first time in everyone’s life that someone evaluates you through a grade. Until then, the majority lives in a bubble, protected from the outer world by their parents.

I remember my first test. The sheer idea of judgment being conveyed through a grade on a piece of paper was overwhelming. Prior to that, the only reactions you got were: “Very good,” “That’s not nice,” “You should improve your behavior,” ect.
And suddenly, your performance is right in front of you, hitting you on the head like a hammer, whether you like it or not.

Some don’t like this feeling, usually those with bad grades. I loved it. How couldn’t I? I always got straight A’s.
I remember when things first started going well for me. Like in any social structure, we also had a bully in our class.

His name was Bradley. He had some really crooked teeth so he couldn’t close his mouth, thus making him sound weird. Despite this, no one ever laughed at him. Bradley was big for his age. He took his frustration out by beating smaller, smarter kids. One day, when we got a test back, he was mad because he failed.
“Whacha lookin’ ath?” He grabbed the test from my hand. “Another hunthred, ah? Fay, how come you onthy geth hunthreds?”
One of the other bullies joined, “Yeah, how come you only get hundreds? You don’t look smart at all.”
Bradley was big, but I wasn’t exactly small myself, “Give it back!” I yelled.
“Oh, you wanth ith vack? Come and geth ith.”
The other bullies started to tease me, “Come on chicken, what are you going to do, tell on us? Chicken!”

The sound of cheering children filled the air as I jumped on Bradley. He was surprised. No one has ever confronted him before. I knocked him to the ground and started punching him in the face. Blood started gushing out. The cheering stopped.
When the teacher pulled me away from Bradley, he was no longer conscious. That day my parents yelled at me so loud, that I was sure the whole neighborhood heard them.
Bradley returned to class after two days, with twelve stitches on his face. Needless to say, no one bothered me anymore during that year.

But my fight had other consequences as well. Finally someone stood up against the bullies. I became the most popular kid in class.

For a long time I seemed normal. I had friends, I played games in the schoolyard and I laughed at the teachers. I’m not sure when my problems started, but I can tell you why they started.

As years passed by, I gradually found out that I was the best at whatever I did: the best basketball player, the fastest runner, the highest jumper, the best chess player and the smartest kid in class.
Everything was so easy for me. I didn’t even need to try. Everyone admired me, the teachers, the guys and even the girls.

My parents always told me that the more popular I get, the more friends I’ll have. But they couldn’t be more wrong. At some point, people started to notice that I’m better than everyone else. It almost seemed inhuman to do the things that I did. They were scared. Slowly, everyone stayed away from me, leaving me with no friends.

I had no brothers or sisters. During all that time, my parents supported me. I was lucky to be born to such good parents. They talked to me whenever I needed to get something off my chest, and they cheered me up whenever I was sad. They are the only reason that I was able to keep going for so long.

By the age of twenty, I held the world record in all categories at the following sports: running, swimming, jumping, athletics, judo and karate. I was even the world’s best chess player and in all that time, not once was I injured. I had more money than I could ever imagine. All over the world people knew who I was. The media had a nickname for me: “The Perfect Man”.

But things aren’t perfect at all. Even though I have all of those things, I was never truly happy and I have no real friends. Life is like a pyramid. As you climb higher, you find less and less people standing beside you. It’s so lonely here at the top. I wonder if this is how god feels.

There is nothing I can’t do. There are no challenges left for me. Living became dull. The colors are fading away as time goes by. Food has lost its taste, and life seemed to have lost their meaning.

I write this as I’m watching a sunset from a nineteen stories high building. Even that doesn’t seem beautiful anymore. When I’ll finish writing this letter, I’ll put it in my pocket and hope for someone to find it. My only regret is that I know how sad my parents will be. But I can’t take this anymore, this loneliness.

I know that most people won’t understand why I did this, but I don’t care. My only wish is that some people will understand what I’ve been through. Understand that getting what you wish for isn’t always a good thing. And understand that being successful also has its disadvantages.

Now, I’m going to try and fly away from here. I hope that finally, I won't succeed.

The End