Mosaic

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The first guy I ever met just looked straight through me like I was glass. He couldn't appreciate the way I let in the light and could brighten his day so I left.

The second guy I ever met recognized my qualities and understood most of my life. He knew I was a sheet of glass but he couldn't wrap his head around the thought of me being so fragile and thin. So the day he left me half hanging off the granite counter as he slammed the door on his way out which rattled me over the edge. And that's where I laid for weeks: shattered on the floor.

The third guy I met didn't see me as broken at first. I didn't let him. I swaddled my heart in silky cloths like a baby. I tried to hide my pieces and glue myself back together. One night we got in a bad fight and I couldn't keep myself together anymore and my veil fell. My cracks revealed. He saw these cracks as weakness and picked and beat at them till they fell apart. After the shattered pieces started cutting him back, he eventually got bored and left.

The fourth guy I ever met found me broken on the floor but pretended like he didn't know that I was. At this point I felt like I could never be fixed on my own. But in the back of my mind I upheld the idea that I still NEEDED someone to fix me. So I let him try. He picked a sparkling silver frame and promised that it wouldn't take away from the way I shined. And for a short time everything was fine and I believed that was true. My frame helped me but after a while I fell back into sadness when people payed more attention to my exterior to me. Someway through the progress of my pieces it because apparent that he was struggling with my issues and was having a hard time continuing his work. Halfway through the project he gave up and left.

The fifth guy I met came to me years later, when I had long yet given up on the thought of love. By this time I had ridden myself of my old frame and accepted my pile of pieces. Many times he offered to know me, to create something beautiful with my pieces but I turned him down every time. One day, when I determined I'd had nothing more to lose, I let him try. The first day all he did was admire each of my piece as their own beautiful piece that made up me and for the first time in a long time I felt appreciated. The second day he spent the whole time picking out a frame that would honestly make me stand out and not take away from my existence. The third day he took care in making sure every piece fit perfectly for their own plan. On the fourth day he had completed half of the art work and decided to wrap up for the day. I begged him to come back, to please not leave me like I was left before. He never hesitated with his promise. On the fifth day I woke up early and waited by the door, praying for a ring, a knock, anything. I waited for hours, after a couple hours I stopped waiting just as the door rang. "I never break a promise or leave a master piece unfinished." He told me and I smiled. He viciously worked nonstop till sunset because he had a surprise for me. Just as the sunset he closed my eyes and pulled me out side after him. As I opened them he held my broken pieces too the fading sun and I could see all the pinks, oranges, and blues shine through. Each piece was separately beautiful but all together they were breathtaking. "Everyone just needs someone to show them what kind of mosaic they could be."

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