The house was eerily quiet, I pulled out the chair to sit down at my wooden farmhouse table. I picked up a cardboard box that was broken away in the corners and dumped a handful of puzzle pieces on a vintage floral plate. My hand brushed over the pieces, I swiftly picked up a piece, the one I knew would fit right where I needed it. In a completely unexpected move, a hand came from behind me, and swiped the landscape of Tuscany onto the floor. As pieces went flying I sat, flushed, and overwhelmed. The table was now empty, except for a few strewn pieces.
I looked down at a puzzle piece that was the baskets of laundry I didn't finish folding. I saw another piece and it was the crumbs that collected in a little lip of the intersection of my kitchen and great room floors. I saw the overwhelmed feeling when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. It wasn't but a moment before I realized there were emails I had never responded to perfectly represented in a Cypress tree puzzle piece. There was a sheet of scrap paper glueing together all of my family's commitments in the next week, it was one of my favorites, a corner piece. I took a final glimpse and saw some cobwebs, water stains on the bathroom faucet, unhung jackets, fingerprints on the storm door glass, a card for a free 30 day membership to the gym that went unused, a whisper to put in Girl Scout cookie sale incentives, a plea to get my resume together, a stack of folded up and tucked away MBA program papers, a cup of ice cream I should've said no to, the inescapable depression that accompanies pants that don't button with ease.
Settled on the wooden floor, were 996 pieces representing all the ways I haven't quite kept my life together lately. A collective unaccomplished. Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw the 4 pieces remaining on the table. Oddly enough the pieces were mirrored, a mirror I couldn't avert my eyes from. It wouldn't allow me to hide in all the excuses I wear with comfort. I was exposed, the core of my being was sitting right in front of me, and it made me cry.