Perfect Puzzle Pieces || A. K.

One

People always say that being normal is boring, but honestly, if I had a magic genie who could only grant me one wish rather than three, I would wish to be normal. For all of my life since high school, I've heard people talk about things they've done with their significant others; things that, let's just say, aren't exactly rated PG-13. More like rated R. I never understood why they want to do those things, but when I try to ask about it, I'm written off as the crazy one.

There is one person I know that wouldn't call me crazy, but I haven't seen or contacted him since middle school. It pains me to say that I can't remember his name, but what I can remember is most everything else. His hair was dark brown and constantly messy, as if he came to school every day without bothering to tame it. His eyes I could never forget if I tried; he was what most refer to as "heterochromatic," as his left eye was a light blue while his right seemed to shift from a leafy-green to a milky brown. We used to do everything together, him and I. We'd even promised that we'd stay by the other's side for life. Guess that didn't last long. He was important to me, maybe the most important person in my life, so when I moved to LA from Houston, I felt a void carve into my heart. I tried desperately to fill it, making friends with a nice-seeming girl at my new high school, but it was in vain. Once he was gone, I needed to be needed; I yearned for someone like him, someone who genuinely cared about me regardless of any "oddity" or otherwise non-conformity.

The girl who I tried to fill that void with is Britanny, who's leaving for her honeymoon with her wife tomorrow. We decided to hang out today, though, as a send-off of sorts, sat outside the Starbucks that lives a few blocks away from her apartment. I've always wondered what the real point of honeymoons are; it doesn't take a genius to know they're for more than relaxing and getting away from the stress of wedding ceremonies. So, seeing as she's about to go on one, I ask Britanny.

"Well," she explains after I ask my question, "it's for truly uniting as a married couple. It's like puzzle pieces, I guess."

I think about that for a minute. Of course, I know what she's talking about, as much as I wish I didn't. My head just can't wrap around it, though.

"I doubt you understand," Britanny continues when she notices me lost in thought, "since you're so...weird about that kinda stuff."

"I'm not weird!" I retort, but I know she won't believe me. I have a hard time believing it myself, if I'm gonna be honest. "It's just...confusing."

Britanny rolls her eyes. "Elyssa, you're twenty-three years old! You should go see a doctor or something about that."

"I have! There isn't a single thing wrong with my hormones!"

"You sure?"

I jump to my feet, glaring daggers at my friend. "Yes, Brit! I'm fairly sure nothing's wrong with me! Could you just lay off it?!" As much as I hate lying, I don't really know if my hormones are normal. I just never went to specifically test for them because my general checkups had always come back healthy, so I never felt the need to.

Just then, Britanny's phone chimes. She takes a moment to check it, then turns to me and says as she stands, "That was Jennifer—" her wife "—I gotta bounce. Our plane to Puerto Rico leaves at 2am."

"Hope you guys have fun," I say dryly, walking away down the street without another word.

A few minutes into my trek, I slip my light blue jacket off and toss it over my arm as the June heat finally gets to me. Although I try to stop it, a dilemma soon arises within me. Brit and I have been friends since early high school, but I'm not her daughter and she's not my mother. Even if something is wrong with me, then it's my problem and my problem alone. She has no say over what I do about it.