Miguelito

Mike and I aren't perfect.

(We get angry. We snap. We fight. We cry.)

But we're perfect in our imperfection.

(We're sorry. We apologize. We forgive. We make up.)

He's my best friend.

(That's why we work so well, I think.)

He was my best friend before he was anything else.

(He's still my best friend before anything else.)

We're rather different in a lot of ways.

(But where with other people differences would clash,

our differences compliment.)

What I lack, he makes up for.

(And vice versa.)

Even if we don't stay Together,

I'll never love him any less.

Just differently, I suppose.

I don't like thinking about that, though.

We're happpy together.

Why plan for anything else?