What I Know to be True

Perfectly Imperfect

You see,
I had this idea:
Perfection in the world does not exist.
So I thought that it was absurd to have a word for something that doesn't even exist. This isn't like unicorns, because at least we can draw and make pillows into the shape of a unicorn.
Perfect is an adjective. It describes something, the state of an object etc.
Now, dont get me wrong, I know you can get a perfect score on a test, or perhaps draw a perfect circle on paper.

What I'm talking about here, is different. I usually associate perfection with people, and how in fact not a single person of this world is perfect.

Anyway, my life was not perfect, I was not perfect. I had been toying with this idea of perfectly imperfect. That maybe your imperfections, made you a perfect person. If people make mistakes, and screw shit up all the time, then wouldn't it mean that if you did this, you were the perfect person? And everybody does this so does this mean it applies to everybody? I couldn't have this.

I decided that perfect was now a subjective idea.

Well, one day I met this young man, almost exactly 9 months older than me, and everything made sense.

No, everybody is not perfect. I certainly am not. Him on the other hand? Is. He has faults, and in no way does everything "perfectly."

But he is my perfect. Everything in, around, and about him reaches the level of perfection I have been so dearly striving to be.

My soul can rest now, because I don't need to reach this perfection. I am quite happy watching and wondering from here, as he continues to be him. As he continues to be my perfect.