I don’t have anyone to tell this to.  Or maybe I should say there is no one I can tell this to.  Hmmm… That’s also wrong.

I don’t want to tell anyone.

So I will tell you.

Every day since she left, I’ve hoped she would finally call and say “I don’t know what I was thinking.  I was lost. We were lost. But I want to come home. We’ll find whatever it is I’m looking for, together.”

At first, it would have been simple to fit us back together. The puzzle looked exactly the same, just with the right half missing.  The jigsaw would have snapped together just as it did when it was pulled apart.  Now I am afraid to look closely at my half of the picture and even more afraid to get a glimpse of hers.

Time is not on my side, so I squeeze my eyes shut. Through the phosphenes I force myself to see what I want to see.