Are you okay?

You don’t seem like yourself today.

The perfectionist side of you isn’t there.

Your left shoelace is longer than the other. Your right sock is higher than the left. Your tie is crooked. Your hair is slightly disheveled.

All the things that usually bother you doesn’t seem to bother you today.

Why? Did something happen?

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes yet the people you smile at don’t even notice.

But I do.

I always do.

You approach your locker hurriedly and enter your combination. You take out your books and supplies and slam the locker door shut.

Are you angry? Upset?

You turn your head and see me looking at you. Your eyes soften for a split second and you lift your hand to wave at me.

Even the way you wave is different today. It’s slow and tired instead of fast and happy like it usually is when you’re excited to see me.

I walk over to you and you give me a small smile. Once again, it doesn’t reach your eyes.

I ruffle your hair playfully in hopes of cheering you up. You just give me a small jab on the side.

We walk to our next class silently, in peace. Because between us, we never needed any words.

Each other’s presence was enough.

“Congratulations once again Ms. Krystal for getting the highest mark in the class.”

It’s a routine now.

The teacher announces your achievement. An influx of thunderous claps fills the classroom. You bow and smile at everyone to show your gratitude.

But today, it’s different.

You don’t care anymore.

We’re walking home together, side by side. Our arms brush up against each other and it gives me a sense of warmth and comfort.

I can only hope it’s the same for you.

We continue walking quietly for a few more minutes when I suddenly hear sobs coming from you.

I turn my head slightly and I just manage to catch a glimpse of a teardrop sliding down your cheek.

I slide my book bag off my shoulder and prop it up against my thigh to get a tissue for you. I hold it out and you take it with a quiet “Thanks.”

You wipe your eyes hastily, ruining your eyeliner or whatever makeup girls put on their eyes these days. Once again, your perfectionist side isn’t present today.

You blow your nose in the same tissue while soft and broken sobs continue to pour out of you.

 I wait a while for you to compose yourself.

I want to know what’s wrong.

Will you tell me?

You continue walking with heavy steps while I do the same beside you, hoping that before we reach your house, you will tell me.

“I’m just so tired.” You say.

My ears perk up from hearing your beautiful voice for the first time today.

Why are you tired?

I continue to stay silent as a signal for you to carry on.

“And not like physically tired. Like emotionally exhausted. I’m tired of having to display an array of emotions every day for people and pretend like everything is okay and happy and dandy when it’s not.”

I know that feeling. I’m pretty sure everyone has been there before.

But for some reason, it’s different with you.

“Everyone thinks I’m smart and beautiful and talented and all of these other things that are flattering and nice. It felt good at first, you know, to be admired and such. But now it’s just so…exhausting.”

You let out a long sigh and I can just feel the tiredness and exhaustion from it. You crumple the dirty tissue in your hand and throw it on the side of the street.

“Having to constantly be smart and beautiful and talented all the time just because that’s what is expected of me. Like why do I have to live up to other people’s expectations? Why do I have to be a different person just to please other people? My family, my friends, hell even kids at school I don’t know. Why do I have to lose myself just to make them happy?”

I put my arm around you shoulder and give it a comforting squeeze.

“Who said you have to?” She turned her head slightly to look at me after what I had just said.

“It’s your life, Krystal. Be yourself. Do what you want to do. Say what you want to say. At the end of the day, the only person you should be worried about making happy is yourself. And if other people don’t support that or understand that, then disregard them. But just remember this. I will always be there for you even if nobody else is willing to.”

You brush my arm off your shoulder, grab my hand, and interlace your fingers with mine. Your hand is warm.

“I know. I’m just so tired of pretending to be perfect, you know?” You say while swinging out hands back and forth.

“I know too. But guess what? You’re perfect to me.”

Can you hear the sincerity and truth? I hope you do.

We reach your house and you let go off my hand.

I miss it already.

“Then that’s all that matters. Thank you.” You say while looking into my eyes.

You turn around and walk to your front door.

But then you stop. You turn around and walk back towards me.

You pull me into a hug and we stay like that for a couple of seconds that easily felt like hours.

You pull away and walk into your house.

My feet stay rooted to the ground in front of your steps with a small smile plastered on my face.

You’ll be okay.