The Missing Twin

I dreamed my life was a huge jigsaw puzzle. Each piece vital to the whole, but each one thinking it was the whole picture. No matter where I turned I saw myself standing posed like the living statues at Bele Chere.

I could move around. I could even talk, but I had the worst ache inside of me. I missed something, craved it, needed it and all the pieces stood between me and whatever “it” was. I was afraid that if I found it and acknowledged it, all the other pieces might turn and walk away. There I stood, in a beautiful park like setting, surrounded by people and so lonely I thought I would die.

Then, just before I woke up, I felt someone helping me put the puzzle together. He was like my other self, the part that filled in the hole and stopped the ache. A twin brother who was not afraid to be who he was and who allowed me to be all of me without any fear that he would turn and walk away. It was so rich, so perfect, so whole.

And then I woke up.