Perfect, Yet Imperfect Love

Society states that we have to love

With only the finest amount of qualities.

Amazing looks and raw power, but nothing else can be above.

Or else, ‘romance’ is dead.

Not everything has to be about ‘romance.’

Not everything has to deal with how you need to look.

Or how you have to act a certain way in order to get the person you want.

Or how you have to say certain, obnoxious things.

That’s not what ‘love’ is.

The way that one friend, who treats you like their twin, pokes fun

At the tiny, silly things you do?

That’s love.

The way that you tell another friend that they matter,

That they deserve to live.

That’s love.

True ‘love’ is kindness.

It’s seeing the person’s flaws,

And accepting them for what they are.

Because flaws make things interesting.

‘Love’ is loving their weird side,

How unique they can be.

It’s telling them truths,

And laughing at every funny move they make…

It’s telling them that you don’t care what you look like,

As long as they’re being true to their self.

Saying “Be careful!” or “Don’t forget this!”

Or “You’re such an idiot.” when they’re being hilarious.

That’s real love.

Accepting every little thing:

Every problem you and someone else have.

Every annoying quirk…

It’s only love when you accept the perfect, yet imperfect, love.