How I found the perfect man

People around me were loved

I was not

I used my mind to get in touch

with a perfect man across the world

who will love me later, when I grow up.

Or maybe I just created him.

I had our story written.

He just had to come and play his role.

Then, I liked an imperfect boy

who lived across the street.

Then I ignored him,

then I hated him,

then I missed him,

and then I loved him.

He was perfect.

None of it mattered.

The man who lived on the other side of the globe,

He was not willing to cross oceans for me. Or maybe he didn’t see a reason to,

for he did not know I was waiting on the other side.

The boy living across the street?

Well he was not willing to cross the street for me.

He moved out of town.

I am still how I always was, confused.

I look in the mirror and I see a disappointed face, the face of the person who I always abandon. That face is very tired, skin dry from tears, eyes sleepless, cheeks yellow, big eye bags, a forced smile, and as always a very lost look. Confused. I pity her.

Finding the man perfect for you does not matter.

He has to find you too.

Then you have to make him stay.

And most importantly,

you have to make yourself stay.

How can I keep myself stay

when I loose myself 27 times a day?

So what happened next?

I turned my perfect man into a story

I gave him up to the heroine

I made their story perfect

He doesn’t belong in my world

He belongs in hers — the world of books

And when I miss him, I can read.

And when I have a wish, I can add another chapter.

I turned my imperfect boy into poems

With him it was the unsaid words that bothered me

So I made sure to say them

And when I really want to talk to him

I can add another line, another stanza…

But usually it ends up being a whole new poem.

New but very similar to the others.

The same way I am different

but very similar to the other me’s I have been throughout the years.