This rambling bit of script is deticated to Miss Busbee because in many ways, we are the same.
The Perfect Girl
We live in a world of infinite possibility, and it is so easy to imagine the perfect girl on paper. To shape her into a controled idea I recognize: perfect lips and sparkling eyes, one not too old, but old enough to have had enough of childish lies. It’s so easy to make her in my image: olive skin, cherry cheeks, auburn hair. It’s so conventional to care about the way she looks. On a page, it’s all so simple.
Simply…Beautiful to behold and my hands ache to mold and touch this idea of beauty without a wrinkle.
But I never stop there.
Deep inside, I sketch her pliable mind. I mold it in my hands to perfection. I form her theology, match it with my philosophy—no exception. I Tap out her rhythmic logic knowing no boundaries, in a sense, an extension of my idea of pursuadable possibility. Not to mention, the attention I give to every detail that I detail into her.
Shallow or not, on paper, my perfect girl can be anything I want.
This why I think it is funny that: while living in a world of infinite possibility, I woke up one day to the realization that I’m wrong. Despite what I’ve thought for so very long, a perfect girl is not always perfect in each individual part. Not in her lips, her cheeks, her hair, her mind, but perfect in her heart.
Perfect in the way she gives up opportunity with no thought of selfish gain. Perfect in the flow with which she maintains her calm composure despite a world racked with pain. Perfect in simplicity and ashamed of cold distain, she is beautiful for what she holds inside: free from all that’s vain.
But in the world around me, this is simply not what I see.
I’m so tired of ugly beauty. I’m so sick of lovely lies. I am repulsed by a reality of charming corpses with rotting flesh inside.
So you can keep your flawless lips. I don’t want your almond eyes. I can’t stand your button nose, your haughty eyebrows—sharp and waxed, your breasts, your legs, your ass, your thighs.
I want a woman who wants all of me, every single part. Who accepts and loves my rocky core, who wants me for my heart. I want a woman who every waking moment makes the world a better place. Who will fight with me and die with me no matter what we face.
Give me sheer simplicity, basic authenticity, kindness, loyalty, compassion and control.
Cliché I know.
But I would be so very glad, just to hold and to truly, fully and completely have,
a simple,
honest
girl
with a beautiful soul.
