A perfect world — but dangerously perfect — isn’t one where you own a supercar that costs as much as a penthouse downtown or have a boyfriend made entirely of muscles, slicked-back hair, and a toothpaste-commercial smile.

No. No.A perfect world is where good music is always playing softly in the background, and the mint in your mojito is forever fresh. It’s where the night sky has just the right number of stars — not too many to get lost in, just enough to dream by. It’s where the sun shines exactly the way your soul needs it to — warm enough to light you up on the inside, never too hot to break a sweat.

A more-than-perfect world is waking up with your head resting on his chest, summer-scented and cool, his hand quietly lying across your heart.

A perfect world is locking yourselves in the bedroom for days, making love, and surviving on nothing but croissants and coffee. It’s when you have no idea who argued with whom and why, because you’re too busy stretching time, soaking in the moments for two.

A perfect world is living inside the story of the book you’re reading, by the sea, in the shade of an umbrella, toes playing in the sand, breeze on your skin, the kind that gives you chills without asking permission.

A perfect world is the one where you’d always hold my hand. I’d glance at you sideways and know — you’re the most beautiful human I’ve ever called mine. You’d smile at every shift of fluffy clouds, pull me close by the waist, and kiss me like you mean it. And me? My knees would become hot spaghetti.

In my perfect world, my daughter would always be happy. We’d ride our bikes through green parks, sketch smiles on each other’s faces, bake fluffy muffins, and snuggle into fresh bed sheets. We’d dive headfirst into the magic chest filled with princesses, secret words, curious bugs, castles…

My perfect world isn’t crowded with nightclubs or hollow people. It’s made of a little white house, clean and fragrant, two or three soul-sisters, your arms always around me, my child’s sweet kiss,  children’s parties bursting with imagination, the smell of freshly ground coffee, inspired photographs, and books that change you a little every time you read them.

With all this, I could happily fool myself for a lifetime.