The Remedial Arts

"Break My Little Heart" by Jazmine Sullivan

...boy don't lead...lead me on / you don't know how I feel / please promise me...

I know this girl, beautiful girl. Funny, smart and wise far beyond her years. Loyal and honest, generous and considerate. Wide-eyed and ready. Dreams big and feels big.

If humans could even be perfect, she would almost be there.

But this girl doesn't know any of this about herself. She isn't humble. She is insecure.

And we're all insecure. However, her insecurities outweigh her knowledge of her grandiosity almost completely. She sees very little of what the rest of the world loves about her.

It sabotages her in so many ways, like insecurities typically do. She is paranoid about how she is perceived, anxious about who she is, and hyperbolic in the examination of her flaws. She sees very little of what the rest of the world loves about her.

She thinks his actions are whispers about her. His steps are sonar rebukes against the person she is. He isn't just unresponsive to a text, but he is ignoring her soul altogether, as if he is out to break her heart just by living his life. She doesn't see his attentiveness, his sensitivity to her feelings, and his willingness to talk and explain. She sees very little of the what the rest of the world loves about her.

Although my efforts in combating my own insecurities have been quite remedial, I have assumed the task of teaching her how to rebuild herself, love herself.

So I stopped by the computer lab in the library before my 2 o'clock class and typed up a syllabus for her. I described the course in self discovery she would be taking, listed the textbooks, and gave her a rudimentary outline of the assignments in personal growth she would have to complete.

And while I have her do all this, I, the professor, too will read. And we will repair ourselves together.

We will perfect the original projection of the image of perfection the world can already see.