The two of us may be broken, but our broken pieces fit perfectly together making a beautiful mosaic of our damaged fragments. I’m not fixed because of him, but he does make me better. And I, in turn, make him better, too. Each pushing the other to be the best version of ourselves, as we accept the other, flaws and all for who we are. We’re survivors. Not defined by our trauma but thriving in spite of it. And I think there could be no more beautiful a love than that.
