Perfect is Nice

It's awfully devastating to have The Perfect in things be taken away.

It's like having the air sucked out of you. Or waking up and realizing you slept in all day long and missed out on all the fun. Or looking at your old class picture which was taken on the one day you didn't decide to go to class.

It's like not being able to sleep at night because you just had a fight with your best friend. Like waiting for three hours at the airport for a flight that's been delayed twice. Like hearing someone relay the ending of the book you had just started reading.

It's almost like failing an exam you burned the midnight oil for. And you know in your heart that no matter how hard you cry or try to hurt yourself for not doing better, what has been done can never be undone. What's been torn cannot be shaped back into its original form. What's dead cannot live on again.

It's just plain awful.

The worst part? Hell, it's not like you could do something about it. The world is just telling you: "Hello, earth to you, nobody is perfect."

Yet, you refuse to believe so.