Finding The Missing Puzzle
I’ve spent almost a quarter of the century wondering and searching for the impossible, and now that it has come to reality, I know that it’s time for me to be reborn.
Why I was born in a family far from perfection.
Why I was brought up to be different than the others.
Why I always felt like I was going against the world.
Why everything felt so empty when everything was so sufficient.
Why I felt like going on a journey of which I never knew the direction of.
Why I felt strangely close and loved by God, despite my own feeling of unworthiness.
Why I drew myself out whenever someone was trying to get close to me.
Why I felt like the only way to be was to be myself, and yet no one could really completely see me.
Why, at most times, it was the loneliest I’d been.
Why I kept telling myself that this too, should pass.
When I read my previous thoughts, I was amused to see that the reason why I’d always been questioning was because I was still searching for something that I thought was impossible.
Yes, a tiny voice inside my heart managed to escape a tiny cry, still believing about the other half of me.
But I chose to ignore it, brushing it away, distracting myself with other things to keep my mind off it. I wanted to believe. But it seemed so impossible when I was so tired, so exhausted, so out of energy when I think about this hollowness inside of me, and I couldn’t figure out why it was so.
People came and gone, leaving traces behind me. The good ones, I picked up. The bad ones, I left behind. I was taught by the many simple things from the most unlikely people I thought I could ever associate myself with.
Time went by, I treaded my path as I should, counted my blessings and be thankful with everything that I had.
Somehow, not realizing how powerful it was, a tiny crack inside this cold shell around me had appeared. A light of hope entering in and I chose to accept it.
This time, I knew my place.
This time, I had my palms wide open.
I had nothing else to lose and nothing else to give.
I was putting everything back to where they belong.
Back to my own designer.
Believing was easier and much more difficult than I thought. It took me twenty-four years to make enough sense of it. But day by day, I uttered a prayer. I didn’t ask for anything much, except to be thankful for what I was blessed with, and that I was letting my life be driven back to the path where it should go.
My life has been planned so carefully, so well-structured, so that by the time I get here, I’m finally ready. I knew now there was no such thing as coincidence. I was placed here for a reason, and I was designed for this one specific purpose.
