In imperfection

Love does not exist in perfection but exists and even thrives in spite of its absence. It cannot be entirely unconditional but it must at least account for the foibles of humanity and our affinity for self sabotage.

I've said here before that a prerequisite for loving someone else is to love yourself but that's not quite right. I think it should be refined to say that we must strive to love ourselves and forgive our inability to fully get there. For inherent in that process is our natural imperfection; an imperfection which is shared equally between two sometimes wounded and battle weary souls.


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