Love Your Imperfections Novels & Stories

Indignation overtook Meg as she struggled to remain calm. "I never gave you hope," she continued, her voice laden with regret. "I never invited you into my room. I woke up and you were there, as if you had a right over my body and my life. That's not love, William, that's possession, that's a power game you're playing." William looked at her for a moment, his eyes full of disdain. "Love is a luxury that few can have. And an orphan like you, with no family or last name, would never find a better match. You'd better be grateful for this opportunity and stop playing hard to get."

The chirping of birds added to Laura's blossoming mood as she reminisced about the first time she had met Aryan, their unconventional marriage contract, and now, the love that bound them together. Love was indeed peculiar; when you pursued it, it often eluded you, and when you walked away, it came offering happiness. Laura had once thought that she and Aryan would never fall in love because their separation had been written in black and white. But everything seemed futile as time and emotions played their roles, slowly seeping into the depths of their hearts. Love was indefinable in any dictionary; it truly reigned in the heart, speaking only the language of emotions.

He choked. "Then why do you feel odd when I show my love towards you? Why can't you believe that I love you too in the same way? All this question of who deserves what... it doesn't make any sense. When we love someone, we love them with all their flaws and all their virtues. Please don't say such things again." Damini looked away from him and sucked on her lower lip, trying to control her tears.

#songs #AdamLambert. - Better than I know myself #TheScript #Army of angels Clara I'm not perfect .I've always said that; perfection isn't perfection unless there are imperfections visible... So we are all imperfectly perfect . There are some moments in life when you feel undeserving of what you have or like a total loser.I've had many of those days and weeks ,when I sometimes feel like I'm not being a good enough mother to my son , or perfect wife to my husband . When you wake up in the morning and wish you could fall back to sleep cause you hate feeling like you are failing at a role you should perfectly fit into cause you've had enough practice, however you still feel like you are always

Pressing her palms to my chest, she looked into my eyes, eyes that told me they loved me, and she said, “You’re such a good person; I can see why it’s hard for you to understand imperfection in others. Eric wasn’t—” “I’m not that good,” I argued, shaking my head. “And I’m damn well not perfect. There’s nothing special about me at all. I make just as many mistakes as the next guy. But I’m not going to forgive some douche who left you after you were scarred no matter how much you defend him. He’s an ass.” She chuckled. “You already said that.” “Well it bared repeating.” “You make me happy,” she murmured, smoothing her hand up my chest until she wrapped her fingers around the back of my neck. T

‘As usual’ I whispered. Connected to our inbuilt speaker, opened my Spotify and let the lemonade album play through, as I opened a bottle of alcoholic wine, I took a chunk and sang each lyric with pain and tears in my eyes, laid down on the couch and dozed off. The rays of sun and the constant ding of the door bell made me frustrated, my phone vibrated, migraines, mascara stains, my bottle of alcohol laying on the floor empty, this time the door bell rang louder than before, I checked my phone, 100 missed calls from G!,notifications began to ding across social platforms. I struggled to walk to the door as Love drought from the album played, oh this album gave me a good night hangover, I wond

I nod my head and start getting ready. I have known sadness, grief, and guilt. But losing someone. Never. The makeup lays bare in front of me. My fingers stop over the concealer. But they don't hold it. As if, telling me to lay all my emotions naked. Being perfect is a standard I have always gone for. Today I would change it. I would show the imperfections. Because they are the ones that make me more alive.

“She was looking for the perfect one…” “Or maybe she simply couldn’t let anyone into a heart that was already taken?” I look at the stunned blond. He looks ridiculous right now. “You know, it’s hard to find some mythical ideal when you already love someone very specific—someone who’s far from perfect. And perfect people don’t exist anyway! Everyone has flaws. But when you love someone, those flaws don’t weigh that heavily on you—you accept the person as they are, with all their little swarms of cockroaches.”

One moment of love at a time. Until it became this. This beautiful, chaotic, imperfect life. Theirs. Completely, utterly theirs. And neither of them would change a single thing. Not the struggles. Not the pain. Not the fear. Because all of it had led here. To this moment. This peace. This love. Perfect in all its imperfect glory. Exactly as it was meant to be. Forever. Their forever. Always.

“I don’t deserve you, Amber. I’ve fucked up so many times.” “Stop thinking like that. You’re a good man worthy of being loved Grayson. No matter your flaws. Perfect is just an illusion. And it never lasts. Real life is messy and hard, but also perfectly imperfect. Everyone fucks up. Stop setting unachievable standards for yourself that you’ll never reach. That can’t fuckin’ be reached! I love you just the way you are Grayson. I don’t want a perfect man, I want you.” He took a deep breath, “I’ll try my best to be the man you deserve Amber. You make me want to be better. To do better for you and our daughter.”