What’s different about us is that we’re friends. Well, maybe we’re not just friends. But the base of all we know is friendship. He may think I’m beautiful, but he’ll still tease me about how he has to look down to see me. And we may cuddle up and watch movies, but we’ll still laugh and make jokes about every line. We may hold hands, but we also get into fake fights that I know he lets me win every time. He gets mad when I don’t think highly of myself, and I get mad when he won’t tell me what’s wrong. We know more about each other than anyone. And maybe that’s the thing that makes it so perfect, that he’s not just the friend or the lover, but he’s the missing piece to my puzzle.