Tonight I took apart the puzzle that we put together when we were dating. I had planned to glue and frame it, I guess, and had kept it on a piece of cardboard all this time. But every time I thought about getting a frame for it, I remembered that I don't really even like you. Maybe I loved you. Or maybe I just loved the idea that someone could love me monogamously. Either way, I never liked you much, and the hours we spent putting together that puzzle really highlighted that. Tonight, I finally decided that the puzzle, like our relationship, was never really worth all the trouble of keeping it together. I took it apart one piece at a time and put it back in the box.

Fuck you for making me think that I stood a chance at having a "normal" relationship, and fuck you twice for buying that stupid fucking puzzle.

It only took twenty-four years to complete this two-piece puzzle because the other piece didn't come in the box. I had to realize it existed, try out several other pieces, give up hope a few times, and then randomly, unknowingly become friends with it first. And we're our own separate puzzles. At this point, each of us on opposite ends of our mid twenties, we're missing a few pieces, and many more are starting to get worn and furry around the edges. Yet every single piece on your unfinished side matches up with every single piece on my unfinished side. We don't complete each other 100%, I still believe that's absolutely impossible, but we're so close, the rest is going to be easy. Now that we're a uniform shape, without that one edge made of dips and (FINISH LATER)