Since I’ve gained the power of self awareness I have been trying to piece this grand puzzle that is myself. But you know that feeling of not even knowing where to start? Sometimes you just go with the flow and try to sift like mad through that whole box trying to find the corners, concrete pointers of where your story’s boundaries are. But then how do you know which corner is which? And which direction do they go in? I thought so many times to figure that out, tried so many combinations, but then came the middle. How do you continue? I tried tracing the edges connecting all four corners and then built my way towards the centre of it all. And after spending all this time, inevitably some pieces always go missing. You can’t really build such an opus in one sitting. It takes time.
Loss is a scary prospect. Especially when what you’ve lost is so well hidden and for so long that it morphs into something completely different, something that has nothing to do with what you remembered so fondly. So I tried looking for those pieces everywhere: under the sofa, between the table’s legs, some of them I even thought might have just shifted colours to match the carpet. Got annoyed every time I couldn’t find them, tore down the puzzle and started over.
Building yourself, it seems, is a sisyphean task. It seems that every time I’m missing this or that piece. Or even more than one. That fucking box is just toying with me, it’s completed image grinning at me cynically, telling me I will never get this done.
Until one day, I feel another hand sifting through the same pieces. And there you were: smiling a sly, but friendly smile. You knew why you were there. Or if you didn’t, I’m pretty sure somehow your subconscious drove you there. Next thing I know we’re piecing this enigma on that tiny floor of yours, littered with artifacts of a cosy design. It goes much faster when you have help. Imagine my surprise, then, when I realize that the pieces were all there all this time. That picture on the box is different now, come to think of it, it was a different one every time. But now I see it much more clearly.
I feel like a veil has been lifted and there it is: a finished opus, complete for the first time. That box was really of little help, all I needed was those missing pieces. Only they were never really missing, I was just not looking for them in the right places. I was looking under my own sofa when really where I should’ve been looking was beyond your doorstep. I guess I didn’t even think about it until you nudged me in the right direction. As deceiving as this puzzle has been, maybe if I’d knocked at your door at another time the pieces lost between your sheets might’ve not been the right shape or size. Maybe the nudge came just at the right time, when I was ready to accept it.
What can I say but thank you! I am forever in your debt for helping me solve this puzzle that’s been plaguing me for so long. Two pairs of eyes make all of this indeed seem easier. But now that it’s been done, what is there to do?…
I know! Let’s build another! A harder one this time!
Image: Puzzle of Love (2013)