My life shattered.
It just fell down into little pieces in front of me.
And there wasn’t a thing that I could do, it seemed, except look at all the colorful shards that lay scattered across the floor.
I picked one up, and held it in my hand, up to my heart, and I forced it in my mind.
And as I worked I kept it there, that one little piece, that made me feel safe and happy and wonderfully scared.
Time passed, and I had created something different.
It wasn’t the same as before, but it was beautiful; a mosaic of my past and my hopes for my future.
But one piece was missing- the one I had held onto for so long.
And I thought all that time that I had studied it so intently and memorized it’s shape so meticulously that when I was ready to fit the piece into the center of my creation, it would fit perfectly.
But instead, it resisted. Desperate to complete it, I pushed and pushed with everything and nothing left inside me. The work of art began to crack from the middle outwards. And i found myself in agony deciding if I would I risk it all for the remarkable piece that didn’t even fit, or if i would I give up on something I had idealized for too long with too much of myself? But before I could move, something interesting happened. One of the shards took its place, and the creation seemed to embrace it. And I could see my own reflection in the center of everything for the first time.