We chase perfection as if it’s a place,
a point we’ll reach once everything aligns.
I used to think once I arrived,
I’d finally feel complete.
But maybe what feels perfect now
won’t look the same once I’m living inside it.
Because how many people have arrived,
only to find the dream feels different
from the picture they painted?
The person who once dreamed of the perfect job
now counts the minutes till five.
The dream came true —
but it didn’t feel the same once they lived inside it.
Maybe perfection doesn’t always disappear.
It just changes shape
once you’ve lived long enough to stand on its other side.
The illusion isn’t that perfection doesn’t exist.
It’s believing it will stay perfect once we reach it.