I’m anxious. I’m confident. I’m ethereal. I’m pragmatic. I’m hurting. I’m loving life.
I’m a puzzle with her pieces shoved into each other; some in their proper places and others where they weren’t meant to fit. I have a few left in the box and others lost on the floor. I’m a puzzle that was never really whole. I’m a puzzle that was torn apart out of frustration and then rushed back together with new hope. I’m a puzzle with a missing box top—no one knows who the end result is meant to become.
I’m puzzled.
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