Monday, May 10, 2010

Call me happy- go- lucky

See… I changed my font; I’m not using Times New Roman anymore; I don’t even want to use it… … I’m lying; I’m dying to change my Trebuchet back to Times New Roman; I’m struggling not to think about it; I’m keeping my fingers busy from changing the font just as I’m restraining myself from calling you…
I swear I’m not trying to annoy you; I just want to show you I care… I want to love you right and give you the attention you need. I want our dates to be perfect and my gifts to be thoughtful…
I didn’t mean to bore you down with all my questions; I want to know you perfectly. I want to learn you inside out; I want to know what makes you happy and what makes you tick. I want to learn your maze and be able to go in and out smoothly. I want to spare you the tiresome of hinting. I want to do everything you want me to do without even asking.

Before you came along I had no real friends. Before you came along I felt like I’ve been used and taken for granted, everyone knows I’ll plan the perfect event, buy just the perfect gift and prepare the perfect guest list. When they ask me to do such a thing, they think that it’s more like a compliment to me, that I’ll think of it as an expression for their unconditional trust in my decisions or maybe I’ll get fooled when they call me the superstar. It’s more of an insult actually because my so-called friends know that I’ll perfect any task they hand me, they know I can’t help but to do that, so they leave me all alone, to work, to plan and to buy while they go on with their fun-filled lives, leaving all the heavy lifting to me. But I can’t help it…

At work, no one questions my decisions, no one double check my work. I’m supposed to feel flattered and motivated. But I feel neglected…
When I’m at home, I spend my time cleaning and organizing. I go by my day tidying and managing. I live my life wondering what will go wrong if I stopped perfecting every damn single think but I can’t help it…

I hear people laughing at me; I know what they think of me. It’s complicated how they admire my attitude yet abhor it. But I’m no longer impressed nor grateful… I’m bored…
I’m tired of living in a suit I’m constantly worried to wrinkle. I’m tired of being used. I’m tired of losing man I’ve ever loved because I care so much, but I can’t help it…

I can’t help it because I fear failure and hate disappointment…
I can’t help it because I don’t like being judged…
I can’t help it because I don’t want to be rejected, if that’s what people like in me so be it, I’m a perfectionist…
I can’t help it because I loathe mistakes and the silly people who make them…
I can’t help it because I fear the unknown…
I can’t help it because I want to play the idol role…
I can’t help it because I crave acceptance…
I can’t help it because I seek praise…
I can’t help it because I aim security and certainty…
I can’t help it because I love success and uniqueness…

There… I’m exposed… Yet, I don’t want perfectionist to be my thing, especially after you told me you’ll leave. Usually, in a much similar circumstance, I’d switch on my stubborn mode and be the most perfect perfectionist I’ll ever be… But I’m not after changing only for you. Like you, I’m not happy, I’m never satisfied and I’m constantly tired to please this and that and maintain an image I’m wishing to destroy…

I saw your face flushed with anger and pity. I saw you raise your hand in question why do I act that way. I feel you like the outgoing person you rarely saw in me. I feel you want to destroy my conservativity and the schedule book I never fail to leave. I feel you want me to laugh at silly jokes, take a break every once in a while and enjoy life, and so am I…

I’m 22 years old, yet I’m living the life of an 80 years old. I want to live spontaneously and act my age. I want to throw my worries behind and live if just for a while outside the perfectionism curse… I truly want that and I’ll act on it…

See… I told you I can be informal, I told you I can speak my mind without editing my thoughts, I told you I have that alter gene… I told you I can be happy-go-lucky.


2 comments:

Roon said...

It's my first time to come around here and I'm sure it won't be the last as I loved your blog...
This post is just the "Perfect" post...It's like you're talking about me...I can feel you...Seeking perfection is an addiction...You hate it but yet you can't stop...It's that irritating thought that never goes away no matter what you do...even though deep down you know that it's totally okay to loosen it a little bit...

LOBNA KHAIRY said...

Thank you Roon... And I couldn't agree more on the fact that perfection becomes this annoying habbit where one is never satisfied... Addiction to perfectoion is the story of my life :(