Perfection in the places we want perfection. A single woman point of view.

So, here we have that one human we all love. We hope he's out there. We love him more than enough even though his existence is questionable. His quirks, his attitude. Whether he's a suit or a bad boy. Big, overly raised truck, motorcycle or sedan. Smoker, non-smoker. Prefers to cook or prefers to eat. Prone to infidelity or insecurely loyal. We have all fallen in love with the idea of falling in love... with someone. And that, in it self, is perfect.
For us single women, perfection lays within our dreams. We often go to bed at night and inadvertently pray for love. For myself, I find that what's familiar is what's comfortable so I often choose the dreaming over the real thing. Perhaps there can be an addiction to perfection. The perfect place we've created for ourselves can be compared to heroine. It's your own little party. Everyone around you has no idea but they see you dancing. If they only knew how safe that perfect place was.
So, here we've created a perfect idea and a perfect place. What about a perfect person?
You see the physically perfect. It catches you off guard almost. You have to do a double take, 'is that a real woman? or am I hallucinating?'. You then start to compare yourself to what you see walking by. In order to cope with your muffin sides, big nose, weird figure, etc, you start to pick apart the unphysical parts of this woman, 'she probably snores, she probably hasn't eaten a cheeseburger in years,' but then what? What do we get out of that? Certainly isn't satisfaction. I just wind myself back to the very beginning, 'by not eating a cheeseburger for years, she can wear just about any type of pant or outfit and still look amazing.'
It's a catch 22.
As for the perfect man... well... he only seems to only exist in my mind. And I'm okay with that. The only thing perfection has done for me is increase the curiosity for who I wind up loving next, who winds up loving me. Will he have a motorcycle or a sedan? Or maybe that big, overly raised truck. Will he fit any of the criteria that I've set for him? Or will I fall madly in love despite the fact?
So many questions!
What I have come down to is this:
There is perfection in this world, ie perfect sunset, perfect rain storm, perfect morning, perfect pasta dish- we just have to embrace it. Perfection isn't a bad thing. It's a welcomed thing. But I guess the big thing is this: once you reach perfection, is there anything left in the world that can still challenge you?