Dear Perfect

Hey. Has anyone ever told you that you’re perfect? At least, that’s the way I see you.

Every rehearsal, you sing your heart out, and I’m always too nervous. I say that I’m not ready yet, but I am, and I know I can’t compare to you.

Today, you walked in wearing ripped jeans and high heels and you said that your friend had called you ugly, so you were proving her wrong. Your friend must have been blind. I’ve only known you for a month or so, and even I can see how amazing you are.

How beautiful and confident and bright you are.

And I know that nobody’s perfect. I don’t know what goes on at your house. I don’t know how many friends you have or anything about you. But whenever I see you, you shine. I think this is your happy place, and it’s mine too, just watching you.

I want to be like you.

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