Nonexistent Perfection

She dreams of perfection
The perfect guy, sitting next to her
His perfect smile, shining down at her
His perfect arms, wrapped around her
His perfect voice, soothing as he speaks
His perfect everything, perfectly with her
His words gentle, loving, genuine
He would never lie to her.
He would never cheat on her.
He would never hurt her.
He would never stop talking to her.
He's perfect, remember?
She sits alone
Hurt, indecisive, and unknowing
Of why this dream can't be real.
She waits by herself for something to happen.
Nothing.
Nothing ever does.
She has been hurt.
Hurt by her own imagination.
As usual.