Flashes of light dance across the walls in a darkened room where she lay her head. Tears are slowly sliding down her cheeks into her ears and onto her sheet. She watches the fan spinning and its hum calms her.
He loves you because you’re imperfect. What a beautiful thing. Someone loves you for being human. You are not held to high standards as most of us are. We try to be perfect but we make mistakes. We trip over words. We have scars and stretch marks. We gossip and laugh at inappropriate times. But we all still try to keep up the facade that we are super-humans. We are always calm, cool, and collected. We sit on pedestals that we’ve built from the ground up. We hold ourselves to unimaginable standards. It takes a special someone to knock us down and show us that it is ok to be human. It is ok to stumble through life. It is ok to be perfectly imperfect.