Nearly Perfect

As the lyrics to a Mark Wills song go, "But everybody knows, almost doesn't count.", I have discovered that almost doesn't count and that, at least when it comes to boys, there is no perfect. Perhaps I merely haven't met my "Mr. Perfect" yet, but as it is going, I am beginning to doubt that I will ever meet him. I have met a couple fellows who are nearly perfect; however, they possess flaws that make them seemingly unsuitable for me to be able to date them. I certainly want to, but one cannot go on a date by oneself. As the famous colloquial saying goes, "It takes two to tango." I wonder if that overly used expression is indeed overly used, and I certainly wonder if it is understood to its full depth. Throughout my life I have heard people comparing love to a dance. I believe the tango is the perfect dance to relate to love. Both love and the tango are filled with so much passion and movement. The tango can be graceful, but I'm certain it is easy to slip and fall and twist an ankle while learning the dance. Even the best dancers get injured. Love is the same way. Searching for that special someone, learning to date and interact with the opposite sex, can certainly be a dangerous phenomenon. Just as a dancer may fall and crush an ankle, a lover easily may fall and crush a heart. I would prefer the ankle. So why then do the dancers risk all to learn to tango? Why do the lovers risk all to love? The answer lays within the beauty of the dance--the excitement, the passion. Once love is found, the lover finds peace. The cares of the world melt away; the sunshine is found within the very soul. A bright beam of light illuminates the eyes until darkness cannot be seen. However, sometimes dark clouds overshadow that inner sun. In those moments, the love can be lost. When a professional dancer is injured, the dancer possesses the ability to recover--to stand again and dance--or to stay down and let the injury override the spirit. Just as most dancers get up as quickly as possible to move to the rhythm, most lovers choose to try again. Despite the pain they have felt, they consciously choose to dance again--to love again. The final destination far outweighs the pain of the path. Therefore, I choose to get up again and try over. Not necessarily over, for the scares that have been inflicted upon me build me up. I am now stronger, more experienced. I know a little bit more of what love is, and quite a bit more about what love is not. "It is better to have loved and lost/Then never to have loved at all." Most of us have heard that profound poetry. We have all wondered about its accuracy. Is the pain really worth the treasure? Sometimes I wonder, but even when I am pondering that question, I find myself thinking of another fellow, or out on a date. Natural human instinct seems to indicate that yes, indeed, the pain is worth the treasure called love. Though at times it feels like I am drowning in an endless gulf of misery, attempting to find my "Mr. Right", I feel that when I finally meet him and recognize him for what he is, I will absolutely know that it was worth the price. I'm certain he will not be perfect. He will have many flaws, but I possess many flaws as well. The important thing is that we'll be perfect in each other's eyes--at least for a strong majority of the time.