Romans & histoires Your Imperfections

"You are not becoming like me, you are better than me." Palming his cheeks before he can bury his face between my swells, I say, "Not really. I think we are both flawed. Imperfect but perfect in our imperfections." Thrusting my hips, I splay my fingers on his chest, slide my arms around his neck. "Stop punishing me."

I sat down and thought of the first thing that came to my mind which was how I felt about myself right now. " I 've got lots of flaws I'm not perfect, I'm so imperect I make so many mistakes 'cause I'ma different human. I'm jealous I'm emotional I break rules I'm human after all I always feel I'm not living right I'm very conscious At every level of my life I've got a devil I've learnt not to trust no one Many timesI just want to shout it out loud to the world how it hurts to be human I've made stupid decisions, heart aching mistake and have irreversable regrets

I nodded, yes. "I know you're still hurting, but I forgive you, Zenia. No man is perfect so we all make mistakes. All we have to do is learn from them, okay, baby? I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to hurt anymore. We have all our lives to have babies." He started kissing me again, but I stopped him, straightened my dress and pulled myself off the bed. "What's wrong? Was I forcing you?" he asked, studying my body language and making his way over to me.

“What about you, Mom? If Mr. Morrison is bitter, what are you? You’re a robot that works 24/ 7 without having a hitch. I've never seen you laugh or cry, and you better stop and think about this little project you just dumped on me. Either we partner on it or I’m bailing out on you which means you fail. You Mom. Now, how important is all that to you?” Laura cleared her throat, wetting her dry lips, “The Society group are counting on me. I promised we would raise enough to renovate the Heritage Society Group Building before the town condemns it. I gave my word. It is important and I’ve never failed at any of my events. What should I do?"

" Maybe. Maybe years from now, I'd forget him. Maybe one day, my phone would break, and I'd have no way to listen to his voice anymore. But not now. At least for now, I didn't have the courage to let go. So no, Derek. Not now. Not you. … But Derek wouldn't give up. He kept showing up. Day after day. Right in front of me. And I kept turning away. The scar on his face—from that basketball game—was still faintly visible. Every time I saw it, my eyes would linger. And every time, Derek would look down. "Don't stare at my scar. It'll heal." He seemed... less sure of himself now. "Derek," I said, pulling my gaze away. "Don't worry about it. And don't waste your time on me. I can't forget him."

She stepped out and looked around, squinting as she took in her environment before putting on her shades. "You are perfect, Scar," I said. She turned to look at me, her perfectly carved brow up in askance. "You think? Perfection doesn't exist, Finn. It's just a social construct and sadly, we have all fallen into the trap. We do a lot of things just to stay perfect when we could just be ourselves. Imperfect," She was a smart woman. Heartfelt. That was perfect enough for me. She wasn't empty. She had a soul. A beautiful soul and that was perfect to me.

— she gags as she says the latter and I erupt into a snicker — “And most of all, you're not fat. Do you know how it feels to walk down the street and be called orobo by almost everyone that passes me? Like, I can't even eat outside because I'm scared people will judge me and say it's because of the way I eat that I'm fat. Now, tell me. Is that something to envy?” “Well... It's not.” I pause. “But, I guess we all have our flaws. No one is perfect. I'm sure if we were all perfect, life will be so boring.” “As in,” Joy agrees with a small chuckle. “Our flaws make us human.” “Yes.” “We weren't born to be perfect.” “Yes, sir.” “We were born to be imperfect.” She points ahead. “Tell them.” “We all

I take a bite from the pizza, “Yeah, your body is perfect, I mean I have seen your dick, it is basically the standard, your smile is amazing, and there has been no recorded human being to be perfect, so what is it? Your imperfection.” He bursts out laughing, even the sound is beautiful. I pause chewing to stare at him, “And you, what is your own imperfection?” I shrug, “My family called me a fuck up, my sister called me, Melly the royal and total fuck up.”

He asks warmly, an affectionate twinkle in his eye. “Oh, don’t say that. I’m so tired of getting credit for things that just so happened to occur in my general vicinity.” I complain, slumping back and rubbing my full belly. “Not that I don’t appreciate the compliments… I just… perfection is an impossible thing to live up to… and I am so far from perfect it’s laughable. I don’t want to end up with a reputation that I’m destined to fall short of – I’m only human after all.” A moment after the words leave my mouth, I realize they aren’t true. “I mean, not human, but I’m just a person like everyone else.”

You aren’t perfect and you never will be. I certainly am not, and I’ve learned to be OK with that. Sure, keep trying to improve, but don’t think you’ll ever be the “perfect person”. If you look at it in a different way, that imperfection is what makes you who you are, you already are perfect. Don’t knock others down. Sometimes we try to criticize others just to make ourselves look or feel better,being bullies and all... I'm raising my hand up high,I am one at times but I can control and contain myself after a while, I'm being honest with myself too.😂