F**kin' Perfect

I was walking around the park near my home when I saw someone sitting on a bench alone looking out at the river. Being the empath that I am, I walk over to see if they are ok, because the energy they are putting off is very depressed, angry, hurt (and worthless?). I notice it is a man with long dark hair, black pants and a dark green shirt on. His shoulders are hunched over and he is leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. I make sure to make some noise when walking up to him so as not to startle him.

"Hello" I say. He responds with a whispered "go away"

" I just wanted to see if you are ok. You look like you could use a friend." I reply.

He turned his head to look at me and I saw his intense green eyes as he takes in my appearance from head to toe and back up to my face. He laughs. "As if anyone on this rock cares about the life of a stranger. Keep going, woman." I look at him and smile, "most people don't, but i am burdened with a purpose for being on this rock, as you call it. I listen to people and if I can, I try to help. I feel guilty if I ignore someone in need. Sometimes people just need a ranting post, sometimes it's a hug. Sometimes it's more in depth. But if I can, I try to help. And right now the energy you are putting off and the way your aura looks, you could use a friend. So, I'm Heather. Nice to meet you!" I say as a put my hand out. Stranger guy stares at me for a moment, pauses, then takes my hand in his and instead of shaking my hand, he brings it to his lips and kisses the back of it and says "nice to meet you, but I would rather not give my name." quietly. "Are you an Empath? Or is it some other gift you are using…?"

"Unfortunately, I am. And no matter what I do, I can't seem to shut if off." I replied,

"May I sit down?" I ask. "You may" He nods and motions to the spot next to him on the bench. "So, do you want to talk or just sit and stare at the water?"

He sighs and looks down. He begins telling me about feeling like an outcast in his own family. About competing for his father's attention and approval. About wishing he could do things over again and how he would change some of his choices.

"I think we would all do some things differently if we were given the chance. I mean everyone has something that they regret, whether they admit it or not. I fully understand the concept of being the proverbial black sheep of the family though. I haven't seen my adoptive father in a couple decades. We talk sometimes, but we're just not close. " I say.

"You're adopted?" he asks.

"Yes, my birth parents were neglectful, abusive assholes. I do not feel bad about his death and wish she would have stayed dead. I know it makes me a bad person, but I really don't care. … sorry… I'm here for you, not me. … please continue."

"I too was adopted… of a sort. I have never really felt like I fit. Like I was on the outside looking in for most of my life. I seemed like no matter what I did, it was not right or not enough…"

I just looked at him and the sad, hurt look in his eyes and wished there was something I could do. I reached out to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and he flinched. "I'm not going to hurt you, I'm sorry."

"I do not like to be touched." He said but you could hear and feel the fear and hurt behind that statement. "Apologies, I was just trying to offer a comforting hand. I was going to offer a hug, but felt it might be too much."

He was silent for a few moments then quietly said, "I would take a hug from you."

I looked at him in surprise and opened my arms to wrap them around him reassuringly. He leaned in and put his head on my shoulder and I just held him for a while. (I would never acknowledge that he was crying)

A song carried on the air from someone's radio and I couldn't help but think how perfect it was.

Made a wrong turn, once or twice

Dug my way out, blood and fire

Bad decisions, that's alright

Welcome to my silly life

Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood

Miss "No way, it's all good", it didn't slow me down

Mistaken, always second guessing, underestimated

Look, I'm still around

Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever ever feel

Like you're less than fuckin' perfect

Pretty pretty please, if you ever, ever feel like you're nothing

You're fuckin' perfect to me!

After what seemed like a long while, he righted himself and wiped at his tears in an embarrassed manner. I handed him a pack of tissues and looked back at the water. "Thank you, " He said. He then waited for me to look at him and said "My name is Loki. "