Imperfect

 

How do you know when you’ve found the person you are meant to be with?

Is there even such a thing?

I’d like to believe so, but then again, I’ve been wrong about so many other things before.

But was I wrong?

Am I still?

I know I should say so.

That it was all wrong.

But maybe it played out the way it was supposed to.

Maybe there’s a point to all of this.

Maybe what I think is the finish is really just the start.

Sometimes things must end in order to begin.

We couldn’t have been more flawed.

But it was beautiful.

After all, beauty is in the imperfections.

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About samlobos

I am an avid fan of creating narratives in my head about random experiences and quotes for future books I will probably not write. I harbor a 15 year old girl in my psyche and like to solve world issues when I'm half asleep. View all posts by samlobos

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