little pieces of my life
one for you and one for you
and on and on it goes
'til one for ...
there should be one left for me

one piece is missing
the puzzle's incomplete

each person has a part of me
each person sees a different piece
strong for one
vulnerable for another
laughing and silly for someone
quiet and serious ofr someone else
no one person sees the whole

'cuase pieces are still missing
the puzzle's incomplete

one piece holds it all together
one piece defines the meaning of the rest
everything falls apart
if that one piece is lost

According to my notebook, I wrote this on March 22, 1993 — twenty years before I had any conscious clue what that puzzle piece might be, what part of me was missing and hidden even from myself.

I don’t remember the specific context and unlike much of what I wrote then, when I left myself notes about why I wrote it, I didn’t with this one. I wish I had.

What I do remeber is that I was a few short weeks before finishing my undergraduate degree and life was complicated and I felt pulled in so many directions. As much as I can look back now and see one piece that was clearly missing, I know the friendship dynamics that were going on then and I’m sure it was more about that, but also …

There clearly was a piece that was hidden and wouldn’t be found for a long, long while.