picture them

There is this beautiful picture that I admire.

It depicts the most wonderful face, with eyes so deep and shining you can’t help but fall in love.

The picture is extraordinary - almost like a dream.

I walk past it, admire it, dream about the depicted person: Them holding me in their arms and I am secure.

I have an idea I like; I love; about this picture.

One day I met the person depicted and they said:

“I’m jealous of the version of me you’ve made in your head,”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not perfect”