We used to be the perfect. We were like two missing puzzle pieces, made to complete each other, that created a beautiful mosaic. Like black and white, we complemented each other. One wouldn't exist without the other. I was made for you; you for me. But I guess 'perfect' doesn't exist. It slipped out of our intertwined hands too fast before we could even grasp it. • [Had to be republished due to error.]All Rights Reserved