Perfection

04.16.19

I have so many unresolved feelings for so many people that sometimes it’s hard to keep track of them.

I can see how people might so easily feel lonely in quiet moments in the dead of night night, scrolling through manufactured and perfected photos of stranger-couples on instagram feeds everywhere, seeming to be living their best lives, all smiles and sunshine and tender, easy touches. Bliss, without a second thought or worry, effortless and all around, never asked for yet freely given. Lives made up of only golden moments shared for all the world to see with the simple click of a button.

But these snapshots don’t reveal the dark spots in the night - the lonely hours spent curled into ourselves with tears drenching the sheets and pillows. They don’t show the sudden and inexplicable fear we sometimes feel, sitting on our own in a cafe, waiting for a friend and wondering about the confused and messy trajectories of our lives. Nobody will post those moments of deep insecurity, of restlessness and boredom - the less attractive half of life that makes us whole.

Instead, we spend our days gliding through profiles that have been so carefully and meticulously curated, swiping and swiping and wondering at the cruel injustices of a world that has given so much to others and left the rest of us behind, absolutely seething with some muted and desensitized envy. The tragedy of it is that we forget to appreciate the abundant beauty in what we do have all around us - we brush it all away to make room for some hollow and ultimately ungratifying idea of more; some shared dream plastered everywhere and shoved down our throats, forcing us into skillfully crafted lines of yearning and consumption, and leading us into lives with which we are never satisfied.

The repetition of it all hammers it home - and though it might not always feel like we exist in constant comparison, it’s enough to induce a collective sigh.