Puzzle Pieces.

Have you ever known someone who was like an extension of yourself? Your real self, not the many facets of your soul that you show to the world. When we met, it was like cars colliding on a busy highway, and after long nights of drinks and drugs and sex, there came a peaceful time of movies and cats and soda. We moved to the same rhythm, worked to the same tune. Our souls were puzzle pieces, and we fit somehow. I don’t know who noticed it first. But we were both scared. Scared of each other but I think scared of ourselves and how could any one person be so easy to talk to? I was willing to dive. Willing but hesitant, because you, worldly and jaded, made the rules. And you, jaded and weary cut the ties. I thought I would never again be able to trust my feelings about people. How could I have thought that someone like you could fit with someone like me? Only now I realize our souls are puzzle pieces, perfectly matched in shape and size but unfortunately not in color or design.