There is this idea that our lives are mosaics that we fill with pieces of different sizes, shapes and colors, these pieces are the people, interests, fears, likes, dislikes, and everything else that makes our life, OUR life. And with time the space for pieces keeps growing forcing us too rearrange or even discard some pieces, but that doesn't make the pieces less valuable, all pieces have values and these pieces can also grow with you. But no matter how hard you try you'll never complete this mosaic, there will always be a piece missing while you're alive, that piece is death. It's the last piece that completes our life. Whether you agree with this or not, you know this to be true, whether it is consciously or subconsciously, it doesn't matter, everyone knows that. But sometimes we meet someone who makes us feel like we have found the piece that completes our life, they make us forget that it is impossible to complete this mosaic, because they fit so perfectly in our mosaic that there can be no room for anything else, our life feels full of them and we want to keep it that way. It's an illusion but that doesn't make the piece any less perfect, that is what love is in my opinion. And the sad part is that if you find this piece and then lose it, you will spend the rest of your life chasing your memory of that piece hoping that if you find it you'll finally feel whole again. I found my piece and I lost it, and now I'm chasing my memory of that piece tracing and retracing entire landscapes just to find something that will make me feel like that again.
