There are days when I feel less of something, like missing the final piece to complete a puzzle. Goddamn do you know how frustrating it is? A story without an ending. That missing piece.
Like the missing puzzle, I've tried to search for it. Under my bed, between books, closing my eyes, on bus rides, walking in crowds, being alone and sometimes, I've tried to search it on other people. Maybe the puzzle dropped on them or maybe they accidentally took it. Of course, I never asked them
Maybe the reason I'm not accusing anyone of stealing is because I don't even know what's missing. I've been feeling less but yet, less of what?
What if, it's not really the one puzzle that's missing? What if, I'm the odd piece? What if I've been trying to fit in with the wrong pieces all the while?
I catch myself tuning the world out most of the time and just wrap my arms around solidarity, but it's painful sometimes to be a bystander. So I'd conform to be the same puzzle as the rest when I have the strength.
When I'm wearing thin and feeling less of myself, I think, would someone please just tap on my shoulder and say "Where have you been all along?"