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Imperfectly Perfect Love
I don't want you to be perfect. I want you to be real. There is a difference. If I wanted you to be perfect, I would be setting myself up for constant disappointment. Every time you breathed, talked, moved, you would be failing my expectations. If you were perfect, you could never fail, never be wrong, never be real. If you were perfect, I would have to measure up my terribly imperfect self to your painfully perfect you. If you were perfect, we could never laugh at mistakes we made together. We could never have those mishaps that create memories. We could never sit together and feel for the other. I don't want you to be perfect. If anything, be as imperfect as you can. Like me. I don't care for the perfect looks and the perfect personality. Asking for perfect is setting yourself up for failure. Because no one can ever fit the image drawn and designed in the walls of your own head. I don't want the perfect friend. I want a real friend. A friend who fails and try's again. A friend who laughs at how ridiculous the things we do are. A friend who will encourage me in my imperfections and help me love them; a friend who will embrace my imperfections rather than fix them. Because I am not perfect; and I have given up on my child-like dream of being so. Because perfect is such a poisonous disease that spreads quickly amongst vulnerable minds, and it is one that must be stopped. Perfection is impossible, unachievable, and undesirable. Embrace and love your imperfections. Embrace and love others imperfections. Just like you could never get things just right, nobody else can either. This is what life is about. We are all filling each others holes, creating an imperfect but harmonious world.
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