Puzzle Pieces

Being with her was like doing a five hundred piece puzzle,
only to realize at the end that you’re missing several pieces.
Irritation that nothing fits together,
anger that you didn’t realize sooner,
but above all–sadness.
Sadness that you’ll never see the final image.
You’ll never see how it turns out–
no matter how hard you try,
how long you wait,
how many times you go to bed praying
that it will all fit perfectly in the morning.

Being with you is like finding the missing pieces,
trapped underneath the sofa where you’d least expect.
The satisfaction of seeing everything work out,
happiness you feel when you see how beautiful the final product,
but above all–relief.
Relief that everything will be ok.
Relief that you didn’t ruin everything–
no matter how badly you’ve screwed up in the past,
no matter how many people hurt you or picked at you.
Thank God we finally found the pieces that fit–
my hands, beautifully interlocked with yours.


**“The Weeping Woman” by Pablo Picasso


4 thoughts on “Puzzle Pieces

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