Can perfection truly exist? I think so. It is easy to admit that "perfection" is used all too much in general conversation; so much so that part of its meaning has been eclipsed by its own cliché nature. It is easy to admit that "perfection" is something that cannot be; nobody is perfect, nor are ideas ever perfect, or societies, or anything-they are all only great, amazing, tremendous. And yet I still do believe perfection exists. Many will make attempts at catching the fleeting ideal, only to be left far in its trail with not a shred of it. That is why I think I am blessed: I did not have to chase after perfection. It came to me.

It is a memory I get the pleasure of reliving each day. I always am surrounded by its eternal warmth and radiance. Even now as I write the words on this page, I know three truths to my reality. Three truths that will never waver. Three truths I remind myself of each and every day.

I have my perfection; I am blessed.

I cannot lose my perfection; it is too attached to me.

Kris… I love you. Thank you for being my perfection. I hope I am yours, too.