Imperfect Novels & Stories

What am I doing in my life? "I appreciate your compliment Mr. And Mrs. Grande but I am not a perfect person. No one is," I replied in my most respectful tone. I don't want to sound rude either way. But if the arrival of my words for them is rude, then that'd be fine for me. Besides, I can stand by my words. No one is living perfectly in this world. Everyone has its flaws, gaps, mistakes, failures and terrible sides. What made it perfect is the person who appreciated and accepted the person's imperfections. That would be pointed as imperfectly perfect.

I wanted to argue, to fight, but my tongue got tied. He let out a small laugh. “You’re just making this harder on yourself.” “Why are you doing this?” I whispered. He leaned back, stretching out like he had all the time in the world. “Because I don’t like imperfections.” I swallowed hard. “I’m not perfect but that doesn't make me perfect.” He tilted his head, his brow raised, shock flashing in his eyes. “Aren’t you imperfect?” I wanted to scream, to lash out, but then he said something that made my blood turn to ice.

I'm not scared—"You are. It is easy to see. You're already making plans, contingencies, and backup strategies. But love doesn't work like a business deal. Sometimes you have to—trust. And be present. And accept that imperfect is okay." Marcus drew her in. "I'm not good at imperfect." Neither am I. We can both be terrible at it. Then he kissed her. Slow, gentle, and full of promises. Marcus pressed his forehead to hers as they parted. "I'm going to mess this up sometimes." I am aware. And you will call me out?" "Every single time." "Good." He smiled. "Let's eat now before the pasta cools. You can also tell me everything that happ

That was the fracture widening, spreading through the architecture like cracks in ice. My voice dropped slightly, became more intense. "You built a system that depends on you being perfect. On making optimal decisions under all conditions, on never being wrong or uncertain or compromised." Hale's eyes hardened, something defensive showing for the first time. "I am." I smiled—soft expression, but absolutely dangerous in its implications. "No one is. Not consistently. Not across all scenarios and time horizons. Perfection isn't achievable in complex adaptive systems." The words landed like a blade, clean, surgical, unavoidable.

“Matthew failed to tell you that he’s in love with the mother of his child. He took you and marked you on an impulse, but he has no intention of being with you.” I watched as her tears filled with eyes. “Why? What’s wrong with me?” “No, no, no, baby. You’re perfect. I’m just already in love with someone else. I want her and my child. I can’t be with you.” He quickly told her. “How can I be perfect, yet you don’t want me?” She cried. “It’s not your fault. I’m really sorry.” He said as he rubbed her arm. I could tell that he was doing his best to resist the tingles that their touch created.

“That's my business. I just want to be perfect. Can you help me, or not? “I question, and he smiles yet again. “The question is not if I can help you. It's if I will help you. I can help you, but I won't if you don't cooperate. “He says, and I stare at the man who is staring back at me with an innocent expression. “Do you know what it feels like to be a black duck from a long line of golden gooses? What it feels like to be sidelined because you're never enough? When the one you love so dearly doesn't even regard you? Do you know what it means to have insults from family members? Morning, day, and night. Either directly or indirectly because you're not as good as they expect? Do you know what

he said before following me out into the hall. As we walked to the house, I stared down at my feet and realized they were right, I did have a limp. My foot touched the ground at an angle and wouldn't stay straight no matter how hard I tried. I growled in frustration and plopped my crippled ass onto the couch. "You okay?" "I hate this, I finally manage to get away from all the pain but then the scars follow me and continue to make my life fucking miserable," I growled.

“Damnit Cheryl, I should be the better person, I should walk away from you, but I’m a selfish man, you make it easier to live.” I fell back into the passengers’ seat with a sigh, he always talked in riddles that I didn’t understand, whenever I pushed him on it, he shut down and I wouldn’t hear from him for a few days. It wreaked havoc on my soul, so I stopped pushing, and he stopped shutting down.

Chris uttered, the minute the kiss came to an end. "So what if you did all that. The fact remains that I still love you, and I can see it in your eyes, that you also love me to. So what if you did all that, I'm done looking for the perfect man. I want you, I want your imperfections in my life." Anna said she tries to kiss him again, but he stops her. "I have a lot of imperfections Anna. I smoke, I drink, I am as poor as a church rat, and definitely I am not the goody two shoes kind of guy. I am so much imperfect in many ways." Chris said to her, gazing deep into her eyes.

The sunset melted into the ocean, soft and golden. “why do you love me? ” she asked suddenly, her voice small. Chase chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Because you're perfect.” Perfect. There it was again. That word, like a knife laced in honey. Her smile faded slightly. “And if I wasn't perfect?” she asked softly “would you still love me?” He laughed, not realizing the weight of her words. “well then, I'd have to tarde you in. ” Her body stiffened just a little.