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The Perpetually Flawless


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I was looking at a picture of her face. Unless you’re into Asian pop music, you wouldn’t know her. It was a ‘selfie’, a close-up of her face; no weird facial expressions, no zany hair or make-up, just a neutral expression. And, not for the first time, it struck me just how beautiful she actually is. It’s not always obvious, when you see her buried under all the wild and wacky clothes, hats, hair and make-up that crafts her stage persona. She can be pretty, beautiful and sexy, three very different states of being, which she appears to pull off with ease. I guess that’s what the naturally beautiful can do, though. Or, at least, if you can afford to employ the right people to make you look that way. But you can't fake a naturally beautiful face.

Then another thing struck me. This woman has absolutely no idea I even exist. The first feeling that came over me was one of heavy sadness, almost a physical presence, like a wet blanket being draped over me. Then other thoughts followed.

It’s strange having feelings for someone who doesn’t even know of your existence. It’s utterly pointless when you realise that this fact is never going to change. It’s one thing to have feelings for someone who does know you but doesn’t return your feelings, but for them to not even know you’re alive? Hell, I don’t even know if she speaks English! So why are many (most?) people so susceptible to falling for the utterly unattainable, usually famous people? Is it simply because we tend to see them regularly, on the TV, movies, magazines or internet? Or is it because they often represent an ideal, a near-perfect vision of the partner we’d really like? After all, how well do we really know these people? The answer is, not at all. We know the public persona that they wish to project, and only occasionally do we get snippets of the real ‘them’, usually when they screw up in such a way as to make the news. But if that doesn't happen, we happily fill in the blanks ourselves and create a perfect human being!

So how well do I know this lady? The short answer is; I don’t, at all, if I was to be totally honest with myself. I can’t even understand her Tweets, something which online translators are woefully ill equipped to change. This means my emotions are based almost entirely on her physical features. But I’m not that kind of person! Ever since I mercifully left my teenage years behind, I stopped basing my affections on looks alone and began understanding just how much more important personality is. I once dated a morbidly obese woman purely because of her personality, even though I really have no physical attraction to a woman that large. So here I am, with feelings for someone based on looks alone. I should be ashamed of myself… but I’m not. Maybe it’s because a tiny little part of me thinks I’m just filling in time until I do get to know her properly, intimately.

Does that mean I think I’ll meet her one day? No, of course not; I’m not an idiot. Fantasy is one thing; reality is very different. I’ve no doubt this will pass, but I’ve also no doubt that someone else will hove into sharp focus somewhere down the track. Loneliness is definitely a catalyst, but does that mean take away the loneliness and you take away the chance of this sort of thing ever happening? I somehow doubt that. Maybe it really is because none of us are perfect, something we soon find out when we meet each other in person, yet famous people can be perpetually flawless in our rose-tinted eyes. As long as they don’t screw up, that is!

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