"How to be like her?" I recalled that day at the guidance office, I saw her... A sight I never imagined to be in the same room as me. She was a literal goddess, living life in perfection, whereas I... Well, you can say that I was like a raccoon diving into trash bins, one after another. A dumpster fire, memes say. And so I first said, "What's she doing here?" Someone as perfect as her couldn't be here with the same reason as mine, right? Yeah, same thoughts. Yet the more I interacted with her, the more my heart yearned to be just as perfect as she is without my knowledge. I want to be like her, but what more of me should I shatter just to reflect her perfection in me? How much more of this thing called identity must I give up for a new one? How far can I keep the façade of being a perfect mimicry of a perfect person? I don't know. I want to be like her, I just want to be like her. But why can't I be like her? I realized, my life's nothing but mirrors, illusions, and nightmares.