Pieces of the Puzzle


Somewhere far between mediocrity, and self-actualization is exactly where he stood. Swaying back and forth in a hammock for the aesthetic. For the girl who might see him. The girl who cared no more about him than he did about the band that his dad used to listen to, KISS. But, he thought she did. As he enlarged his display of being a desirable mate, the girl he didn’t know was watching, saw him as just that: Desirable. Probably more than desirable, if you ask her.


From Tuesday nights at the bridge, to Thursday mornings at the cafe, he was a sight for sore eyes in her mind. If her life was a puzzle box and the pieces weren’t complete, it is because he was the missing piece. Oftentimes the missing piece becomes seemingly the most important, without it nothing else is accomplished. The job can not be done, the puzzle will not be complete unless that piece is found and connected.


So, when we see these pieces and finally find them, we forget that if that’s the case with that piece then that’s also the case with every other piece of our puzzle.

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