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I guess what’s been bothering me is that I thought I was special. We all think there is a place for us in the world, a nook for each of us to fit into like a puzzle that is waiting for the missing pieces. But as of lately, I’m realizing that the puzzle is already complete. Yes, life does not need me; I need it. The picture was already complete long before I arrived and it will continue to be complete long after I go. That disheartens me. It takes away every explanation I was holding on to as to what I’m doing here. Those fortune cookies aren’t talking to me; they’re talking to everyone. Sometimes when bad things happen to me, I feel as if it’s ok, as if some audience out there is watching it happen to me and some dude next to the camera is holding up a sign that says, “Say awwwww now”. And that even if I feel bad at the time, it’s ok, because someone somewhere is making the appropriate noises.
Approximate Word count = 633
Approximate Pages = 2.5
(250 words per page double spaced)
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