Individuals. Real people. Extraordinary ones. They’ve entered
my life. From time to time. Including
two true loves. Maybe that’s the nicest thing about life. True love. And even
love that may be less than true. Less
than perfect. I don’t need perfection. To be happy. Actually, I’m not sure what perfection is.
Maybe it’s a myth. And perfection doesn’t exist. My true loves aren’t perfect.
Neither am I. But we learned to accept each other.
More or less unconditionally. That’s the
nature of true love. Thing is. I’m not
sure that I could accept a perfect being. –Jim Broede
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