Missing Piece

I love jigsaw puzzles.

Growing up, my brother and I used to spend hours putting them together. The more difficult the puzzle, the more we loved it. One time, we bought a puzzle that was so large, with so many pieces, we had to go to Home Depot to buy a large piece of ply wood just so we could complete the outline of the puzzle because our dining room table wasn’t big enough.

The simple fact that a jigsaw puzzle contains so many tiny, individual pieces, and that those pieces fit perfectly together to create one complete picture, is a beautiful idea to me.

I wish that were the case with human beings; If we could simply put all the puzzle pieces in the right place to make us whole and complete.

I am an obscure puzzle piece. The piece that looks like the rest of the others at first glance, but is just a little too big or too small or too or too wide or too short in all the wrong places. You know when you’re trying to put together that 1000-piece puzzle and there’s a piece that could literally fit anywhere based on it’s shade in comparison to the other pieces, but it’s so oddly shaped that it cannot find it’s proper place until the end of the puzzle process? The obscure piece may even seem like it fits against others, only to find once you’ve found a piece that truly fits in the spot next to it, you must remove the obscure piece and keep it in the corner until it has its due time.

This piece is me.

I am this piece.

I don’t quite fit anywhere.

At least that’s how I’m feeling at the moment.

Sure; I fit in where I need to. I keep that teeny, tiny space that exists between my puzzle piece to the next piece, with the illusion that I actually have a place in this world.

But it’s only a matter of time before the other surrounding puzzle pieces realize that that teeny, tiny space exists, and that I’m not truly the right fit for the other pieces. And once they do, I move on, to the next portion of the puzzle, and try to seemingly fit in among them.

In my expertise in the puzzle world, this piece is always the last to be fit. It’s the piece that drives everyone crazy, being passed around from person to person to try to make it fit. Eventually it’s tossed aside in frustration because this piece, no matter how hard you try, will just not fit in with the others.

Will I be waiting my whole life to “fit?”

Or, on the contrary, am I just that bastard piece that actually belongs to some other puzzle that you forgot about long ago?

I can’t tell.

Where do I fit?

Why can’t I fit?

When do I fit?

I feel like I’m just puzzle piece in this game we called life. I want so badly to fit in with something… with someone. 

Shannon Rose Allen

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