If people were as pure and as promising as the skies

If people were as pure and as promising as the skies, the world would be a better place.

If love was as beautiful as the sunset, fewer hearts would be broken.

If you asked me what my idea of perfection​ was,

I'd say it is you and me, fingers entwined, lying beneath the velvety expanse of the stupefying sky, lost in its resplendence.

Because that is entirety.

That, darling, is beyond perfection.

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You could be with a hundred people at a gathering and still be alone. You can be alone with the ocean and still feel like you've got everything. A million secrets buried in those waves, A thousand dark memories made. A hundred more, sent away with the tide. Words scrawled on parchment, rolled and stuffed into a glass bottle. Tossed into the water for the horizon to learn of your despair. There are but a few things that can calm you as much as the sea does. There are but a few things that can torment you as much as the sea does. Because it's just you, your thoughts, the sea breeze and the sound of the waves and nothing else to interrupt this time with yourself.

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The people around you, define you. You could be the nicest person and yet be known as a bastard because of the people you choose to be with. You could give in to your vulnerability and mould yourself in a particular way in order to fit into their category. You're no different than a pale cloud. A cloud who is plain and ugly when it is surrounded by an aura of an upcoming storm. A cloud who can look impeccably stunning when it is stabbed with the rays of the sun. You're a cloud and you're free to choose if you want to look ugly or breathtakingly resplendent!