We're an imperfect match, me and you.
Definitely not one made in Heaven.
We have both given up so much just to be together.
I see myself sometimes as a comet that spun your life into a different orbit,
yet the same goes for you,
because without you I might not be here.
Maybe we are an imperfect match,
but then again,
Maybe we're really a perfect match, so lucky to find each other.
Because what would I do without you?
Maybe God did decide we needed each other,
and maybe we are a match made in Heaven.
Define perfect, and define imperfect, if it even exists.
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