"I'm afraid that we will become history as soon as the puzzle is finished."
Looking down at my jigsaw I
understand that the picture below is now made of

South African wine, bouldering summer storms, and pieces of garlic in the hands of a dancer who does not

Dance. Only in your arms, I could breathe the best way an asthmatic could. But as a misunderstood

Puzzle Girl, I would always give you the last piece of my jigsaw - knowing that you'd keep the finishing piece in your box of

treasures. Kept a secret. Like the fact that we both *hate to love but keep believing that this too shall pass
as the cancer is eating out our bodies and we fight our separate wars.
You are making history

And I look down at my unfinished jigsaw
knowing that without you
my picture will never be
Complete.