Perfect is such a controversial word. For the most part, the word is either considered unattainable or a sarcastic rendering of something far from it.
Why does a word that can describe the petals of a rose or the slope of a lover’s back seem closer when spoken in anger than in love?
In the urban dictionary, most people agreed that perfect was unattainable. I would like to champion the “perfect” cause.
When I looked up the work in my high school dictionary (I actually pulled it off the shelf), perfect isn’t unattainable, and it isn’t scarcastic either. What I did find was:
perfect (pur-fekt) n: certain, sure, content, satisfied, pure.
There was another word that struck me:
Mature.
In my old dictionary, the word was used twice. Once on its own and once combined with sexual maturity (let’s here it for perfect experiences).
What about being mature was perfect?
When I flipped back a couple of pages to find out what mature meant. I found: having completed natural growth and development; and having attained a desired state.
I am not sure I am completed my growth and development, but it would be perfect to attain a desired state. I am take a rest from striving and being anxious. I can enjoy mature wine as it tickles my taste buds. I can savour a fine piece of chocolate as it melts on my tongue. I can be taken away by a good book. Or lifted up by a job well done. And I can enjoy perfect sexual maturity.
Being mature or perfect is not the end. It is the beginning of enjoyment.