Last night, me and Zane were talking on the phone and he mentioned his idea of a perfect girl (or rather, what it used to be). He mentioned that his perfect girl was an innocent, sweet person who was a virgin. Someone who hadn't been around the block or paraded naked in front of a ton of people. I completely understand how such a girl was perfect to him. He also mentioned that one of the girl's who he used to have a huuuuge crush on turned out to be not so innocent and how he'd lost a lot of what he felt for her because of that.
Even though at the end of the night he reassured me that he loved me more than anything in the world and how I was perfect for him, our earlier fight (in which he told me that I wasn't perfect and that he'd settle for second best) still hurt me. I know he probably didn't mean it and it was all just said in the moment. But, honestly, he's right. I'm not perfect and I never can be. I never could have fit into his idea of what a perfect girl for him was.
My biological father was in the Marine Corp when me and my brother were born. Life in Hawaii is fine enough from what I can remember. We moved to North Carolina shortly afterward and me and my brother didn't have any problems there either. Our family made good money and we lived in a fantastic neighborhood.
When we came down to Georgia though, everything changed for the worst. It was about then that my biological father became this cheating, manipulative bastard who sold our things for drugs and took our only car to go do whatever it is he did in those days. There was no one there but my mom (who wasn't fuuully fluent in English at the time), my brother, and me.
We struggled and we struggled hard. The kids in the neighborhood weren't all that great either. Besides Denny, who was the oldest white kid there (he was a teenager while we were in elementary), me and my siblings were the lightest kids in the neighborhood and the only asians. We got picked on a lot and, of course, I protected my brother the best I could. I guess it didn't help that I was a rather feisty child who challenged anyone with balls to mess with me and him. But even with all the fire in me, I wasn't a match for half the black kids there.
I'm not going to blame everything on them though. Sure, mostly, they were horrible children who loved to pick on kids, but I wasn't an angel either. I was a manipulative and conniving child and had my own little dark side that I had gotten from my biological father. I could talk my way out of most anything if I got into trouble and I smashed talk even if I had nothing to back it up. I made threats constantly, hoping none of the kids would call my bluff because I needed to feel that they feared me and my brother enough to leave us alone. They didn't fear me though, and they certainly understood that they had numbers on their side.
If I happened to be a Fallout character at that age, all my points would have went into Speech and Intelligence. Not a single point would go anywhere near any combat related skill. And though I could wish the most horrible things on other people or try to manipulate them like the little devil that I was, I just wasn't a fighter and didn't want to hurt people physically.
I wasn't born innocent. I was born with the need to bend everyone to my will, to protect what was mine, and to hurt those that didn't abide by my rules. I wasn't born with compassion and a kind heart and I never acquired any of that until years and years later. I guess all of the anger from my biological father leaving and from us having to live in an area beneath our level was bottled up inside and turned whatever heart I had as a child into a black pit with nothing but a need to pay back the entire universe. Before I was even a preteen, I had stolen, emotionally broke people who dared to mess with me, and lied about pretty much everything. Innocence and sweetness didn't even know a place in my soul until I was a teenager.
And up until I was a teenager, worse and worse things would fall onto me and I guess it was the world's attempt to stop me from being any worse than I already was. Each thing that terrorized my childhood forced me to ease off of being the way I was. I think the most horrifying thing I had to go through was with my "godfather". I guess that's kind of when everything else went to hell for me (or...further into hell than everything already was).
My mom was fond of Monique and Shontae who were sisters and kids that went to school with me. They were super well-mannered, mature, and kind. Their parents were just as kind and seemed just as well-mannered and were very religious people. We all enjoyed their company and eventually, they kinda self-declared themselves our godparents. It was fine with me, really, because they had helped my family so much.
The Millers lived with us for a short little while until they picked up and moved into their own place. Everything went fine until this one day when I was alone in the house with Mr. Miller. I've always been naive and I would never dispute that, but when he sat beside me and put his hand too far up my lap, I knew something was very wrong and this wasn't supposed to be happening. He'd smile at me and I'd smile nervously back but I'd still move his hand. He'd move it back and I'd move it back off again. Eventually, I just moved away and pretended I had to go to the bathroom or something.
At first, I decided that maaaybe I was just overreacting. After all, he was a very respectable person and he'd never done anything to ever make any of us suspect that he was a bad person. The next time something happened though, I changed my mind entirely. The next time wasn't a mistake or something you could misinterpret at all. I had the remote in my hand from in the kitchen and he'd come up behind me. At this point, I was already pretty uncomfortable with him, but when he groped my chest, I practically panicked. I got away from him and decided I didn't want to be around him anymore. When I tried to tell anybody, they just dismissed me and assured me that nothing was going on.
And then I realized that if anything happened to me, no one was going to believe me. Especially if it was someone who they personally knew and thought highly of. I made sure to never be around him and whenever I saw him, I flipped out and ran the other direction. When they moved away to Texas, I was so relieved.
I never thought it would haunt me though because I was young and I knew he was too far away. But when I was 17 and hanging out with friends, a car pulled into a driveway not so far from us and I could have sworn it looked just like Mr. Miller. I started to panic inside and all I could think about was hiding. I don't know why I was so scared or so disturbed. When it turned out not to be him, I calmed down pretty fast but honestly, I was so surprised that something that happened so long ago could still effect me now.
A while after the Mr. Miller incident, my biological father had this girlfriend (who is now his wife, actually) and she had a daughter. Sometimes, me and my brother would have to spend time with him and her and we slept over for a few nights. Nothing bad ever came from any of that until this one night. I was sleeping on the top bunk and her daughter had shaken me awake telling me to be quiet. Honestly, I was too tired to even comprehend what was happening. I could hardly see and I didn't even have my balance yet when she started pushing me onto the floor and yanking my clothes off. I didn't know what to do and my mind just completely shut off at that point. I didn't scream or anything and I guess that I'd freaked out to the point of not being able to respond in any kind of way, really. After that happened, I never felt like I was actually worth anything. I was regretted not screaming or telling anyone, but honestly who would have believed me anyway? I learned earlier that no one would and there was no point in it. From that moment on, I could never be perfect to myself. I was always slightly worthless and pathetic no matter what I ever did in my life. And I guess out of all my childhood horrors, this one experience was just something I could never overcome fully. I would always feel like this one experience made me less than I could ever be. This one thing, I could never get better from. And maybe it was just because I never did anything about it.
On top of all that was what happened with Quinton, which I also believe I can never actually overcome in terms of worthlessness. I was already imperfect before that point, but afterward? I was even less perfect than most other people in my own opinion. I love myself, I do, but I can never be perfect for anyone. I'll always fall short.
But it never really effected me until I heard it from Zane. Saying that he'd settle for second best because I wasn't perfect either. And when he said it, everything I'd ever gone through flashed before my eyes and I realized I could never ever be the perfect girl for him. There will always be someone better that he could be with. I can never be the pure, innocent person he wanted in a girl. I'm always just the person he settled for and learned to love instead of the perfect dream girl he fell in love with.
I guess that's why I never try to tell him all the things I've had to deal with in my life. I don't want him to think any less of me than he probably already does. I don't want him to see me as someone who's pathetic, worthless, and just damaged goods like I saw myself for years.
I guess I never really wanted him to realize how I'm just not the perfect girl he wishes I was.