I feel like every day I wish some part of me were a little more perfect. Maybe my face could be smaller, I could be a little thinner, a little nicer, more outgoing, or better at fitting in...
Unfortunately, it seems I will never become that kind of person, that perfect version of myself.
This imperfect me, just as I am now, has been with me through so many different springs, summers, autumns, and winters.
Later, I met someone, and only then did I realize that when someone truly loves you, they will choose you without hesitation, even if you are imperfect...
