My Perfect One

12:31 AM

I spoke to him on the phone today. It was...different. He's not the same boy I met at fifteen. He is now a twenty seven year old bastard who believes that he and only he has the answers to everything. Nothing is ever as it seems, it is only the way he says it is. I , me, myself...I use to find this endearing. It was a part of his charm. I was looking at him through eyes of love where everything is right, even the most fucked up parts of him were perfect. I couldn't see past the love that I had for him.

But now, the rosy haze has cleared, the love isn't as, the love is no more. And I see him for exactly what he's most likely always been. An ass.

When we were younger, he was my perfect person. He was what I wanted and what I ultimately thought I needed in my life. His answers were right, his voice was flawless, he was my perfect one. There was no one better. Now, his imperfections are like nails on a chalk board. They annoy me. They make me want to cover my ears and close my eyes to block out all of the wrong and hold on to all that is right. But I can't. I am forced to release him and the thoughts of who I wanted him to be and move on.

There may not have been anyone better for me back then. But now, I know that there is someone better, there is something better, and I'm going to find him one day, or, maybe he'll find me.

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