Her Perfect Life

There was no denying it. Emma Reigal’s life was perfect. I spent far too much of my own life as a spectator of hers. She had everything – looks, charm, talent, money. She had the personality, too. She was funny, smart, kind. Everything she did was interesting. Every word she spoke had everyone sitting on the edge of their seats waiting for the next word to fall from her lips.

Everyone loved her – classmates, teachers, parents. And try as I might, I couldn’t come up with a reason not to. She had never said one bad word to me or about me. She had never been anything but kind to me. But there was something about her that rubbed me the wrong way.

No one understood why I was so repulsed by her. To be honest, I didn’t understand it myself.

So, I tried to ignore it. I tried to push that repulsion deep down. Instead, I chose to befriend Emma. Before long, we were the best of friends. She spent hours upon hours with my family, who, of course, loved her. And I spent just as much time with her family, who were just as happy and perfect as she was.

Eventually, we graduated, but we never lost touch. She called at least once a month, telling me about her successful college career – her perfect grades, her wonderful friends, her passionate and intelligent professors. Eventually, I started hearing about her boyfriend, who soon became her fiancé.

I met him before long. He was every bit as wonderful as Emma made him out to be. He was handsome and sweet and smart and interesting. And he was in love with Emma.

When she asked me to be her maid of honor, I couldn’t say no. I got dressed up in that bubblegum-pink gown and got my hair and nails and makeup done. And I kept waiting for something to happen. What, I wasn’t quite sure, but it was a wedding; something would go wrong. Weddings were never perfect.

Except hers was. Everything went exactly according to plan. Everyone showed up on time. Nothing was forgotten or missing or broken.

As I stood in front of the church, watching this perfect woman saying her vows to her perfect groom, with a single, pretty tear rolling down her cheek, I realized what it was; I realized why I was so repulsed by her, even now, years after I had grown to care about her.

Her life was too perfect. She had no troubles at all – no hardships, no worries, no grief, no anxiety. Nothing. Her life was too good. It wasn’t natural. Life needed hardships to balance out the good times. We needed some sorrow to balance the joy. But her life didn’t have any.

As I watched the happy bride and groom walk back down the aisle towards their future together, I smiled widely – the most sincere smile I had ever given Emma. Because I finally knew how to fix this problem, how to fix Emma. Too much of a good thing is a bad thing. Well, after tonight, that wouldn’t be a problem anymore. I was going to introduce some bad into Emma’s too-good life.