I’ve been told no one is perfect,
but I think different.
Perfection isn’t facial features
or how great their body is,
It isn’t about the way they dress
or how they sweet-talk you.
Being perfect is about tolerating my mood swings sometimes.
It’s about telling me I look pretty when I have dark circles round my eyes.
It’s coming back to me whenever we fight and holding my hand instead of saying an empty sorry.
It’s about messing up and having the intention to fix those mistakes.
It’s knowing you never had a bad intention when you messed up and knowing I’m a priority to you.
It’s talking for long hours and working things out,
It’s telling me I’m wrong and helping me work things out the right way up in my head.
It’s knowing that everyone messes up sometimes, and that I won’t be judged for a slip-up.
It’s looking back and knowing you’ll be right there behind me.
Being perfect is trying constantly to become a better version of yourself, not a perfect person.