Tilted

Perfection. Noun

the condition, state, or quality of being free from all flaws or defects.

He taught me to stop chasing after it.

He helped build me back up when everyone else broke me down.

He taught me how to eat and smile again, and love myself the way he loved me.

He took the tilted picture of the tree. And that's how he started fixing me.

It was mid-autumn when I first met him. I was running into the library in search of a new adventure. One that would fly me away from my reality.

I searched for A MidSummer Night's Dream for the millionth time, knowing that I would get entranced within the whimsical romance, wishing I was Hermia. The girl who took the two men pining after her for granted.

Just as I reached for the book, he said, "Shakespeare? Interesting choice." I gasped, spinning around to see the care-free smile that I grew to love.

It was a memorable day. I was wearing jeans and a neatly ironed, floral blouse, with my hair perfectly straightened, braided to the side. My big, doe eyes shielded by my glasses, and my dancer's feet covered in Nikes.

This was the day we met. The day I found my savior.

The man who stole my heart through his melodic words and honey-like eyes.

He also wore jeans, but they were ripped. He wore a red muscle tee that showed off his toned arms. And a beanie that was tilted to the side, showing off his brown curls.

We were so different. That's what made us perfect.

I never felt like I could truly achieve perfection. But then he came along, and I realized it didn't matter as long as I had him by my side.

He taught me the most important life lesson that day; perfection is found in discord.

In the mistakes that we learn from, the angles that we explore. In the tilts and shifts that look wrong and unappealing. But that's what makes it real.

"If you took one leaf from that tree, what would you see?" He asked me, taking different pictures of that autumn tree.

"I don't know, it would be dead and dry, I guess," I responded, unsure of the correct answer

"But what color would it be," he asked me, stopping his photoshoot and facing me.

"Orange, probably."

"Exactly. Liv, what I'm trying to tell you is this. Every leaf in that tree is different. Different shapes, sizes, colors, and shades. But when you look at that tree, what do you see?"

I continue to look, trying to find what he sees so easily.

"Beauty. That's what you see. Find the beauty in the chaos, Liv. That's what life is all about." He told me, tilting my perfectionistic perspectives.

He tilted my world, teaching me that true beauty is found within the finer details.

And now I hope I've tilted yours, with a meaningful lesson on life.