Flawed
I want her to be flawed.
She can't be perfect all the time. Sometime or other, she's going to mess up. And when that happens, I will be on the spot.
I don't even know why I can't bear to see her so perfect. Her perfect hair, smelling of jasmine; her perfect lips, full and pouting; her perfect figure, Venus would kill for it; her perfect eyes, no emerald could shine brighter than they do. Her perfect smile that makes you weak; her perfect laugh that makes you tingle; her perfect voice that makes you float; her perfect countenance that never once faltered. All these and more. She is so much more than that. She was perfection personified.
I always felt that I was lucky to have her. I always knew how all the others envied me. I can even go so far as to say that this has been my best year so far. But it cannot end this way. I am too happy to have it end this way. There is no such thing as a happy ending.
I love her. I've known that since day one. I don't know how, I don't know why. Somehow, we ended up together. But she's too perfect. There must be a part of her I haven't seen yet. She can't be this flawless. It's too much, too good to be true.
She must have a flaw; she must have made a mistake before. However much I love her, I need her to mess up every once in a while.
She is unreal. She is unblemished. No one is as untarnished as she is. Nature won't allow it. She even knows how to have fun, to prank, to break a few silly rules while keeping people's respect. I swear, she's the embodiment of faultlessness.
Her voice is music and her eyes are captivating. She has enchanted me even before I was aware of it. And even before I knew I loved her, I knew something was amiss. But I let myself fall anyway. I let her love me, and I loved her back. There was nothing left to do but that. And even then, it was perfect.
Perfection.
Perfection, itself, will be her downfall. That much I know. I have to protect her. Even if it means keeping her away from herself.
And slowly, as this dawned on me, I realized that I, too, have to hurt. I, too, have to suffer for her perfection. I must break free if still can. But I do not wish to go.
I love her.
I love her despite her apparent flawlessness. She is not perfect. I have found that out now. Her one flaw is in being too good and just and everything that works well in the world. But I love her for it.
And as the years will pass, I will remember how I felt today when she smiled at me. I will remember how lucky I have felt that she was mine. I do not know how long we'll last. But the time I spend with her will be remembered forever. I'll make sure of that. No matter what the ending, in the beginning, we had love.
As I close the drapes, only her name comes to mind: Lily.
Something from me:
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