puzzle made of two

And right there, right in that particular moment of misery and shame, despair and sorrow, there you survived. You are still alive, you are standing still. And just when you thought you became blind because of looking so hard for better times, you just opened the door to something new, something good. It almost feels like sunshine awakening you from a nightmare, warming you up with soft and light hands. At first you might think it is not real because you haven’t felt warm in a while, but it is. It is indeed familiar and you know deep down that after so much battle, after longing so much, and after abiding the dark night so shamelessly, a glimpse of hope brought to your soul by someone will revive the sparkle and joy of your soul. And even more than that, you will feel like that little glimmer is lighting the way to a new self, to a complete self, the missing piece of the puzzle made of two. Puzzling… I like this word. Everything is puzzling in two different ways: puzzling in a mysterious way, for the strange offices of love, and puzzling for fulfillment, for the uncertainty of certainty takes over the certainty of uncertainty. And you wonder why this clumsy dance takes place in such a pure and innocent form. We don’t know. Puzzling… ‘You really love this word,’ I said then. Why would I want to solve a puzzle that is already solved? I am one of the pieces.