That's one of the big disillusionments isn't it?
The perfect life, the perfect man/woman, the perfect house, the perfect car, oh yes, the perfect job.
They don't exist. So chasing them is pointless.
The bitterness of that lesson doesn't fade with time or the number of reality checks.
Today I was reminded of it again.
But as I sat there, having dinner and conversation with someone I loved like family, that was perfection right there.
My brothers' hugs, countless times of perfection.
Shoes that fit just right, perfect!
Maybe all those fairytale stereotypes of 'the ideal' whatever won't come true.
But I'm quite content with living from moment to moment of my own perfect constructions.
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