The Last Perfect Man

Have you ever wondered why there are no ideal humans in the world?

If so, I can answer that question.

Here stands the culprit before you. After all these years, I want to confess. Yes, yes, I killed the last perfect man. You can convict me, imprison me, lynch me, whatever you want.

Just please let me tell you the whole story. I'm tired of being silent, of looking at this rotten, dark world of false people, unfulfilled dreams, and filthy lives. I'm still haunted by remorse. If it weren't for my thoughtlessness, the descendants of the perfect man would still be alive today. Maybe they wouldn't be perfect, or maybe they would be? We'll never know. But consider this: what if the descendants of the last ideal were perfect? ​​They could cleanse even a tiny corner of the planet of its filth, and that would be a lot.

It all happened a long, long time ago, when I was still a graceful, wild teenager... I come from a wealthy family with high social status. Back then, I could have anything I dreamed of. As an only child, I didn't have to share my privileges, my toys, or my abundance of gifts with anyone. That's why I was spoiled and selfish, and I could allow myself many follies and excesses, because I knew that no matter what I did, my influential family would stand behind me and get me out of any trouble. I used these privileges often, and I felt good about it.

I always walked with my head held high, feeling superior to others, haughty, proud, and a little arrogant. But only for a while. Nothing lasts forever, my superiority vanished the moment I saw him. I saw his perfect figure for the first time during an ordinary walk, and I immediately fell in love with him. I decided he had to be mine. My heart started beating faster. As I passed him, I tripped on purpose, fell, and he instinctively leaned over me, concern reflected in his eyes. He helped me up. He offered me his hand, and then I felt I would never see him again. I'll forget. We exchanged a few words, and I tried to be as nice, charming, and seductive as possible. Unfortunately, my charm didn't work on him; I could see it in his eyes. He liked me; the ideal person likes and understands everyone, you probably know that, right? We exchanged phone numbers because I had imagined a fictitious problem at school that I couldn't solve... He promised to help.

That meeting was my first lesson in humility. The more I saw him, the more I became convinced I wasn't even close to his level. I saw my own worthlessness, my multitude of flaws, my irritating habits, and I discovered many sad truths about myself. He was a mirror for me, reflecting the true truth about myself. Before meeting this flawless man, I'd been looking into a distorted mirror. Now I was no longer the best, the smartest. In fact, I stopped thinking of myself as smart at all. Compared to his knowledge, intelligence, and erudition, I was a dull idiot. Unfortunately, summer vacation was approaching, my grades were almost all in my gradebook, and I desperately searched for some excuse to continue seeing him.

During our last meeting, I put everything on the line:

"Listen, where are you going for vacation?" I began diplomatically.

"I don't know, I'll probably go somewhere to relax, but that won't be until August; for now, I have some work here."

-Great, I'm also going to the seaside in August, maybe you'll come with me? -

-I'm sorry, but I'd rather relax in solitude, away from people and the hustle and bustle. -

Of course, of course, I wasn't surprised by his intentions at all, the perfect person sometimes wants to take a break from pathetic creatures. But I had to do something...

"I won't survive his departure," I thought, and blurted out:

"Listen, I love you, don't leave me alone, I need you, be with me, please... Even if it's just for this holiday, spend it with me, then I'll leave you alone, okay?" "

No," he replied sadly, "love doesn't pass that quickly. The longer you're with the person you love, the more it draws you in, makes you addicted... And I feel nothing for you, nothing more than sympathy

." "I understand," I replied with tears in my eyes. Yes, I understood, it was simple: how could a perfect person feel anything for a spoiled, unruly teenager? Maybe if I were different...

"No, you don't understand anything, please leave.

" "But..."

"Go, go, no goodbyes, I don't want goodbyes..."

I left obediently, I thought it would be better for him this way. I still had a few illusions left, I believed with the last of my heart's strength that when he tamed He would come to terms with the truth, with love, and discover that he wanted me too...

The next day, I read in the morning newspaper that a young man living alone in building no. 3 on Fiołkowa Street had hanged himself in his room... That was him, the ideal. He tried to live among us, to help, to care for us, but I crushed him with my imperfect love. He didn't know what to do; he couldn't bear the thought of hurting someone, of no longer being perfect, stained with my heart's blood. On the other hand, he couldn't be with me, because it would be incompatible with his feelings. A paragon of all virtues and principles, he couldn't live against himself.

He didn't want to say goodbye, perhaps he felt he had no one to say goodbye to because he didn't... The ideal man was lonely. He would still be alive today if it weren't for my recklessness.

That's the end of this story; what you decide to do with me is your business; it's all the same to me.

I lived 80 years without love because I couldn't fall in love with anyone... Who can live up to the ideal? Since I've decided to be honest, I'll also confess that despite my pangs of conscience, I don't regret meeting him. I can't renounce a single memory of this angelic man in favor of some kind of remorse.

I miss him...