picture them
There is this beautiful picture that I admire.
It depicts the most wonderful face, with eyes so deep and shining you can’t help but fall in love.
The picture is extraordinary - almost like a dream.
I walk past it, admire it, dream about the depicted person: Them holding me in their arms and I am secure.
I have an idea I like; I love; about this picture.
One day I met the person depicted and they said:
“I’m jealous of the version of me you’ve made in your head,”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not perfect”
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