The puzzle that is me

Sometimes I feel a lot like a puzzle. Like there are all these different pieces of me, each its own shape and size and color. All of these pieces together make up the person that I am, only, there is no one in the world who has ever seen the whole picture. Most people only have access to a few pieces, they look at these pieces and think they can guess or think they know the whole of me from these few pieces, but in reality they have no idea. If you were to collect all the pieces of me which have been shown, from every person in the world who has ever known me, and put them together, you would have a much clearer picture of who I am, of all sides of me, and yet, the picture would be missing quite a few pieces, some are things I don’t even know about myself, colors only God knows I can shine, and some are pieces I hide from the world, pieces of me I hold onto so tightly, no one has ever even caught a glimpse of them, pieces of the puzzle that is me which I am afraid to share, and yet hope to someday be able to show to someone or have someone discover, so that they can help me to understand how they fit. Sometimes I yearn with all my heart to no longer be the only keeper of the full picture. I yearn for someone to share the burden and the blessing with me, for someone to help me discover the bigger picture, to help me to see those puzzle pieces I have hidden for so long that even I don’t remember what they look like, and maybe to help me fill in the holes of puzzle pieces I’ve lost, or repaint the pieces which no longer reflect who I am.