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This Is My Life, But It No Longer Feels Like My Own

My life is a jigsaw puzzle and I’m relying on everyone else to solve it. Sometimes things click, some people break off the tabs, some people disfigure the blanks, everyone tries to get one of their pieces to fit, but no one is really trying to match it up to the bigger picture that I had in mind.

My life is a word search, full of crossed off words and scratches. Everyone’s eager to cross a word off a line going horizontal, vertical, diagonal, but none are quite the words on my list.

My life is a sudoku, where everyone is rushing to fit in a number, but no one cares if it’s in the correct place or order.

My life is a crossword, where letters are strewn about, but no one quite understood the hints and the cryptic messages that were there to help.

My life is a knob puzzle, where everyone’s forcing shapes into different places but no one’s looking for a perfect fit.

My life is a maze, where everyone is trying to find the exit, but no one is coming close to the heart of it, where I’m waiting for company.

My life is a riddle that no one can solve, but everyone has their own interpretation of what they think the answer is.

My life is a supernova that everyone can’t wait to see go up into flames, an interstellar spectacle, but no one sees the damages and what gets destroyed in the process.

My life is a bomb, time ticking away. Everyone’s waiting for an explosion, but I’m fighting to defuse it before it sweeps everything away.

My life is a garden, where too many hands are destroying the plants. The flowers remain unwatered, but the weeds are tended to more than I’d like.

But why does it have to be this way?

Why did I let others take control when I just want to figure it out my own way?