And here’s where I tell you that you don’t have to do anything.

That life is perfect, not for the person, but as what it is.

Perfect pain.

Perfect boredom.

Perfect seeking.

Perfect contentment.

Perfect ideas of growth, or loss.

Just perfect.

And here’s also where you get really fucking angry with me for telling you this.

Or curious.

Or frustrated.

Or relaxed.

Or blank.

And that is also perfect.

Not for the person, but for what’s really there.

For now.

And here’s where you shake your head and mentally show me your middle finger.

Or where you just sigh.

Or simply go quiet.

And all of that, ALL of it, literally every little-or-big-thing is …

Perfect.

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(Photo by @ttrapani, for Unsplash)