We want to be perfect but perfection is not what we needed but acceptance.
I guess maturity really comes in the right time like a fruit getting ripe, it needs to undergo a lot of seasons.
When I was younger I thought I always needed to be perfect, that love could only be found in perfection. I used to hide away my flaws as deep as I could. But I never found love in a perfect place. It maybe perfect but love does not exist there, only that constant effort to be always perfect.
Perfection is not happiness.
My scars are the perfect testimony of what happiness and love really is.
My scars molded me to realize that love is found in a place of imperfections.
Now I finally accepted the fact that I could never be perfect and love will come my way in spite of my flaws.
Paradise is beautiful but even paradise is not perfect.
And love... that love we always wanted will come not in a form of perfection but only in acceptance.
"And if all the world is perfect I would only ever wanna see your scars."
Your scars make you beautiful.
And if love is true... it will accept your deepest and ugliest scar.
