The Perfect Girl

44

"Sometimes she stares up at the sky,                                                                                                                     And wonders how and why,"

I couldn't stop the hiccuping sobs from leaving my body for a long time after that.

Khalid held me close.

"A-And I know that I shouldn't hate my body," I sobbed, "I know that it's just trying to keep me alive, but i-it--" I broke off, choking on my own words.

"It's okay, baby," he rubbed my back gently, "It's okay."

I hadn't cried so easily or so violently in a long time.  It felt like exhaling for the first time in years.   

"It h-hurts," I cried, "It hurts s-so much."

Khalid just pulled me tighter against him.  As my sobs began to quiet, he pulled away from me, holding me by my shoulders so he could look at me.  He studied me, tilted my face up so he could meet my eyes.  He looked both tired and broken.

I'd done this to him. 

I'd brought my problems into this relationship and I'd hurt Khalid. 

"I-I'm so sorry," I stuttered, trying to calm myself down, trying to back away from him, "I'm so sorry.  You don't deserve this mess in your life."

"Don't you dare!" suddenly, there was real fury in his voice, "Get back here right now."

I swallowed, surprised, and torn between guilt and exhaustion.

"Hiba!"

"This is my fault," I nearly screamed, "I did this.  I'm unhappy and I'm making you unhappy.  I'm hurting everybody!"

"Come here!" he shouted, "Hiba, come here!"

I shook my head, unable to process.  Khalid grabbed me by the waist and held me right against him.

"You are the best thing that ever happened to me," he said, voice harsh, "Don't you dare ever say that you've hurt me, damn it.  I love everything about you, everything.  I come home exhausted every single day, and all I want is to see you.  I come home for you, because of you, because I want to be around you, because I want to make you smile, because I want to hear you laugh and because I want to hold you.  And I'm not going to lose you to some delusional sort of guilt you're holding.  You mean too much.  You mean too much to me, to your mother and your brother and Jana and my parents to just let you go." his breathing was uneven.

"Please hold me," he said, gasping.

I wrapped my arms around him, felt him bury his face in my neck, lift me up.

"And I know nothing I say will make you feel better about yourself," he whispered against my skin, "But I'm going to say it anyway because it's true, and I'm an honest person."

I actually giggled, just a little, at that.  He kept holding me, and I was worried that his arms must be aching because of my weight, and I felt bad, but I figured this wasn't a good time to comment on it.

Something about how he talked about me, how convinced he seemed that I was, in fact, beautiful, made me want to believe I was too.

"Did I make you smile?" he asked gently.

I nodded, knowing he could feel the movement.

"Good," I felt him grin against my neck, "I did my job."