I am beautiful. This is not a delusion, but an objective truth as shown by any reflective surface I pass by. 
I am graceful. This is also not a delusion, but an objective truth as told by everybody who had the honor of being in my presence for more than 10 seconds.
I am rich. Do I still have to say that this is not a mere delusion of a poor, sick mind, who can only find peace in mere daydreams, but an objective truth that can easily be proven not only just by searching my name on the internet, but also by seeing my parents' bank accounts?
To make it short, I will spare you of listing all the adjectives that can be used to describe the perfect me and just say that by imaging me as the angel who has descended on earth in order to lessen the misfortunes of the world just by existing, you would have an accurate grasp of what kind of peerless creature I am.

However, even this extraordinary me has a weakness, something that can make me furrow my alluring brows and even compromise on my beauty sleep. No, it is not the fact that I am too soft-hearted and the thought about starving children makes me lose my rest at night. It is also not the fact that I am concerned about how the earth is slowly dying due to pollution and it is certainly not that I am love-sick.
The reason is simple: I hate to be overshadowed. 
Maybe it is because my parents have showered me in immense love that I cannot stand to be ignored even for a second, or maybe it is because I have always been the center of attention. The reason can be anything but the result is the same. I cannot rest till I completely unroot the person who even remotely gets in in my way. This is how I lived my life since I became aware of my ego and this is how I had planned to continue until I took my last breath, but it looks like somebody up in the heavens had different plans for me. Because as soon as I entered the university, I met...her. The person who turned my world upside down and the person who became the source of all my regrets.

But before we get to that, let's go back to talking about me.
I already said that I am beautiful, graceful and rich but I have never said just how beautiful, graceful and rich I am, have I?
Well then, sit down comfortably and listen.

Once upon a time, in a far, far away hospital for the rich, in a certain luxuriously furnished room which could be mistaken for a royal apartment, one woman gave birth to an angel, who was unexpectedly fathered not by the God himself as her beautiful features would suggest, but a human man, who was nervously pacing around outside the room and talking to someone on the phone.