The Missing Pieces

I have this theory, about how we leave tiny pieces of ourselves all over the place. Try as we might, sometimes we just can not seem to keep it together. Sometimes we break apart, or get chipped. A piece of us gets left where we had our fist kiss, where we had our first date, and even in the drivers seat of our first car. A bit of us gets chipped off the first time we lose someone, the first time our passion gets stomped out and every time we realize there is no stopping growing up. Sometimes we get ran across a hard surface and bits of us get shaved off. If we only lost little pieces we would probably be able to get by, but we don’t lose only small pieces. Every once in awhile we take a hit so hard that it feels like a hole has been punched right through us, leaving an odd shaped gap where a piece of us use to be before. Most of the time it is easy to ignore, easy to not pay attention to the tiny holes that run through us. We can go about our lives doing what we need to get done, forgetting that we are not complete. Then, when you least expect it, a bitter wind comes and blows right through us. That is when you realize just how many pieces you are missing. Physically you can be in one place at one time trying to do what has been placed in front of you, the task at hand, but how could you possibly focus when you are scattered all over the place.
When I was younger I was taught that the best way to get a puzzle done was to start with the corners and border pieces and work your way towards the center. Start on the outside and work your way in. It usually works too. You can find the corners easily because they are pointy and hard and stick out from the other pieces. You can find the hard edges first. Then try to find the pieces with flat sides, the ones that support and connect the corners. They help build the frame, the skeleton for everything else to be placed on and supported by. These are a little harder to find and notice. When you do get all the corners and the outside pieces you begin to see what you are truly looking at. A rough estimate can be made about how the end result will look. Usually you can cheat and look at the box to see what you are working towards. Box or no box, once you have the frame you start putting the middle together, which is like the heart of the puzzle. This is the hardest part, a lot of the pieces look similar and the colors blur together and it can be hard to find what fits where. The image on the box can only help so much, when it comes down to it you are on your own. Even when you have all the pieces you need it can be complicated, but when pieces are missing it can be a disaster.
We don’t always get to choose what pieces we are missing, and even if we did it would still be a hard decision to make. Should we lose a corner and soften our edges? Do you try to eliminate some support? What happens if you try to keep it together without all the pieces of the heart? So if we need all of our pieces, and we keep losing them, how are we suppose to keep it together?
We are told that point is to try and have as many pieces as possible, and yet somehow still maintain the original image that was on the box. But what if losing pieces is not only a bad thing? Maybe it is a trail, like breadcrumbs leading to the heart of who we are. If someone is willing to not only follow the pieces we have left behind, or at the very least understand why they are missing, maybe that makes them worth being around. Through one fashion or another we are all missing pieces, our lives are scattered through our pasts and leave a trail leading right up to our present; the question is how do you keep it together if you are missing pieces? In my opinion, you forget about the image on the box and build the best way you know how with the pieces you still have.