In a perfect word, you would meet the perfect mate, you’d have perfect dates, of course have perfect sex, you'd communicate quite perfectly and live a very blissful, perfect life. Now that you have finished laughing your head off, think about this – perfection aside from being obviously unattainable, would be, in a word, boring. The whole point of life is that while on our quest for impossible perfection, we are meant to experience the awkwardness of meeting perfect strangers, the craziness of dating, the occasional “what was I thinking?” sex, and the comedic miscommunication of what may have been a very significant moment.
Life's truth is that it is imperfect, mistakes are supposed to happen and we are meant to experience it in just that way. The rules are a bit "let's make it up as we go" and you have to dodge the curve balls, and feel the bumps that inevitably come your way. This is what life is made of. This is the stuff of living. Sure, there are glimpses of perfection: an amazing kiss, the full moon illuminating the ocean, the warmth of someone’s hand, the quiet of the morning, the brilliance of the stars. But there’s something about the insanity of it - the rush of the unknown, the adrenaline of excitement, the breathlessness of possibility. Life is not perfect. It is not meant to be perfect. It's messy and chaotic. But, if you think about it, isn't life with all it's imperfections, really the best way to live? Perhaps that's the perfection of it. Maybe, just maybe, it's in the acceptance of the imperfect that we finally attain life's perfection.