Perfection is something that can drive someone to the edge of sanity until they are about ready to jump off. Making every little detail as “perfect” as one can. All around me, in my world I have noticed people breaking down due to trying to become “perfect.” I’ve come to learn that perfection does not exist in the sense that people think it does.

Sure, some seem to believe that perfection in everything you do is a possibility. That may be, but it is extremely difficult. There will always be little faux pas here and there. The occasional blunder that graces a day’s worth of work, just in a single moment.

Family life, even within them there is no such thing as perfection. The small child may feel broken inside because he sees his parents arguing from behind the stairway’s railing. His face streaked in tears.

I would be that little child. My parents were the reason when I first began to understand perfection didn’t exist. People die for many reasons. Sickness, murder, a miscalculation, an accident waiting to happen. If perfection existed, there would be no aging, there would be no death.

But as I stand here in the park, looking at my reflection in the pond, my heart aches. My best friend wasn’t perfect. He was fine the way he was, but he wasn’t perfect. I had come to understand that nothing can go like someone would want it to.

No matter how someone believes they’re perfect, it’s not true. My name is Axel. I’m sixteen, and so far my life has been full of mistakes and problems. I, myself, am a mistake. I cause problems for my parents. I am no where close to perfection.

They fight over me. They argue about who should keep me. I’m sure neither of them wants to keep me. Not even marriage is perfect. Love doesn’t always work like in the fairy tales. No matter how much someone wants their love to last forever, until the end of time itself, something goes wrong. Something always goes wrong.

My heart has been broken many times. It’s pointless to count. Not because I loved someone and they rejected me. There’s been more cases than just that single one. My best friend had come down with a sickness quite some time ago. Roxas. I had known him since as long as I can remember.

In the cruelty of life, his parents and him moved away when life began to show its ugly colors. Showing me the difficulty of reality and how not everything is perfect like in the stories your parents would read to you when you were little.

He was terribly sick, and even now I wonder if he remembers me. I only made one other friend, Demyx. But he has long since abandoned me. Life has left me friendless and emotionless.

My parents have been broken up for what seems like an eternity. I live with my father who tries to ignore me and treat me as if I am not there. We don’t get along. I get up and go to school where people continue to ignore me.

I come home and sit in my room for hours, wondering what I could have done to change everything. Nothing. Destiny had run its course.

So you see, perfection is but an idea that someone once created in hopes of actually making it become real. But as far as I know, it is just a word that means nothing more than letters put together.

My reflection tells me of the sorrows that hide behind my eyes. Being perfect was as far from my life as possible. And every now and then, I tell myself, “Nobody’s perfect Axel… You’re normal… It’s alright.”

But deep inside I know it’s not alright. I have been driven to think that as long as people believe that being perfect is possible, there will still be strife and problems that circle around other people’s lives that it effects.

In the end, I truly believe… perfection does not exist.