Just when I finally think that I met the perfect girl, she breaks my heart. I start wondering if "perfect" really does exist. What if I keep pursuing perfection and I come to the realization that it does not exist. I am tired of all the mind games. Where are the nice girls, the ones I can take home to mom, the ones that would make Norman Rockwell proud. The all-american girl, The perfect girl. There was a time when I thought I had met the perfect girl. There was this girl, J. let's call her. She seemed perfect in my eyes. She had the style of Jackie Kennedy, the grace of Audrey Hepburn, the charisma of Natalie Wood and the presence of Joan Crawford. As cliche` as it may sound, the first moment I saw her I knew. I knew she was perfect. Impossible say you? Not at all. Nothing is impossible when there is true respect and love. We became friends, good friends not best friends but very good friends nonetheless. I never told her how I felt. How could I tell her that she was my all, my purpose in life, my reason for being, the only intention for my existence? What if she did not feel the same towards me? What if she did know, and felt the same but did not tell me due to the same fear? So I waited, and I waited, but Alas, she moved away and I never told her she was the reason why I would wake up each morning and scream at the heavens, "Thank you for J." She never knew. I never told her. Wait, what if she did know and is looking for me, right now. If you are J. I am here. Waiting.Ciao