With the love season on, there are some couples celebrating. There are singles, there are people happy with the love they have. The kind of love they have. That human need of belonging, that human need of wanting to be appreciated, looked upon with loving eyes, cared for and looked after. Being on our own, being single forever looks different. We don’t really find stories that may suggest greatness in being on our own.

Do we love that little baby. So cute. So lovely. The mom needs to actually see the ugly picture of having the baby. Let’s say parents. They are the ones who do everything for the baby, take care of the baby and love the baby as much.

Why does this change when it comes to love wherein there are partners involved ? Does this change.

Can we look into ourselves, find out, are we actually perfect enough to be loved?

So, wait. What is perfect? The one’s that showed in the movies, the writer’s imaginations? the marketeer’s message? Is giving diamonds when you are extremely old perfect ? Is making that perfect cup of tea/ coffee perfect? Is being the specified figure, specified skin color, specified caste, nationality perfect?

What is it that is perfect enough ? Are babies perfect enough ? Are models perfect enough ?  Are celebrities perfect ? Are the Royals perfect ? Are politicians perfect ? There is a poetic concept of a bird who lives on drinking from the light that the stars emit. Is that bird perfect? Actually nothing is.

There are little little things that we love in the person we love. That attracts us to that person and then we continue loving that person for them. There are imperfections too. We either communicate or adjust to these imperfections. We accept the people we love as in. Love them unconditionally. But then maybe until we can bear those imperfections. There is definitely a time when we call it quits when we cannot bear those imperfections. Then we miss the company. We miss the companionship.

We love people until we can. Maybe people love us until then can. No one’s perfect.

Are we perfect enough ? Do we think we are ? Do we really need to be perfect to be loved ?