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Who do you fall in love with?
Short answer, a masterpiece in progress. The reason I love weirdly imperfect people is because I get the chance to see them grow. So why not the perfect guy, the shiny one, the "I have it all"?

See it this way. You get gifted a very fine piece of art, full of details, colorful, with a great story behind it and quite expensive. A true fortune. A static, finished masterpiece. Or you meet a painter, not well known yet and you become friends. As you spend time together you often observe him having a secret painting, a not finished one that every now and then he adds strokes, mixes colors without a clear vision or any clue of its worth. You see a blank canvas getting stained, ruined, start making sense, having mistakes and at the end this becomes the masterpiece of his life or something he throws away. It's a work in progress. A movie you don't know the ending. A book you never read.

I like people who work hard on their progress. I want to see them passionately adding these strokes, people who they haven't fully reached their potential. I enjoy observing and supporting this attempt of creating one's self, giving birth to a secret vision. Who you are is not interesting. Who you can be thought is fascinating and yet unrevealed.

And it's not the end result that I'm investing in early (and for cheap) is rather the process and the journey, where you really show you true colors.  As a result, value is not derived from what you've acquired and the level you reached. Value is depicted in the battles you pick, the cause you fight for, the intensity, your moral compass. So if you're already a fine piece of art, you might be perfect cause you don't have the reason not to be. When you're imperfect and still in progress the type of your imperfections really reveal who you are and how much I should (or not) admire you.

Humble, effortlessly simple, real people with dreams and some hope. True explores of life. People who are able but most importantly willing to shed light, to go a step further. People you feel blessed seeing them bloom and rise as they deserve.

It's the gaps that connect the pieces of a puzzle and it's the missing parts that make a whole.



This post first appeared on , please read the originial post: here

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