Perfect, and Hers

Everyone's life has a cover page that everyone sees and a story that is rarely understood. She was no exception.

Throughout her life, all she chased was perfection. She never claimed anything as hers unless it was sculpted exactly the way she wanted. Yet, there was one special being whom she loved to call her own—the only one she had never created. It was Him.

Throughout her journey, he silently followed her. Along with her tears, he quietly dissolved. Along with her happiness, he silently blossomed. He was never loud enough to be heard by others, yet perfect enough to be felt by her. He conveyed every word she longed to hear without being asked. It was he who stood beside her, breathing peace and contentment into her life.

Whenever she wandered through the maze of her thoughts, he paved the path back to reality. He created a world where she lived as a ruler and he, willingly, as her minister. When her words failed to express their bond, his actions spoke for him. He gave her time to heal and pages to fill. He gave her a reason to love the world with simplicity, yet never to settle for less.

While he cared for her in silence, she whispered his name in her prayers. The force that separated them was never known. Whenever she closed her eyes, she was fortunate enough to feel his touch. But every time she opened them, all that remained was emptiness.

She believed in love with all her heart, and he became its greatest proof. While she mastered the laws of the universe, he mastered the laws of her heart. They grew fond of each other, just as the sun and the moon exist in an eternal bond. She no longer prayed only for perfection, but also for a long life with him.

Everything seemed like magic—a gift from the Lord for her unwavering spirit—until one day.

When they finally met despite the barriers of time and distance, she recognised herself in him.

The wounds left unattended, the messages left unsent, the pages left unfinished, and the love left unseen—all of it lived within him. While she ran after people, longing to be cherished, she failed to notice the one who had always walked quietly beside her. While she struggled to stand tall in the practical world, she forgot to appreciate the throne that had been built solely for her grace.

As all these truths reflected in his eyes, she broke down—not once, but every single time his silent words comforted her.

She believed that falling in love once was enough for a beautiful beginning, but forgot that love demands constancy—for either its construction or its destruction.

She offered herself to him only in fragments, as though it were customary. Yet he gathered every broken piece with tenderness, only to return her to herself as a complete masterpiece. For the first time, the pieces she had discarded as worthless were treasured by someone.

When this truth finally reached her, he was no longer a physical presence.

She did not cry aloud, for she knew he had become the spirit of silence that would forever remain with her. Just as she had imagined, he breathed life into her once more through ink that never dried.

As she had always wished, he was perfect.

Perfect as an ally who described her only as "flawless."

Perfect as a lover who filled her heart with kindness.

Perfect as a husband who cared for both her soul and her body.

Perfect as a father who protected her from the world—and sometimes, from herself.

Perfect as the one who stood at a height no one else could ever imagine reaching.

And above all, perfect because he was, and always had been, hers.