Fractured

Fractured.
I had a perfect life. Purrrrr – fect. I mean hot summer, seagulls crying, tree houses and swimming in the sea perfection, for years. Sure bad things would happen, I would hear my mother crying behind her bedroom door, but I would find myself distracted by my idyllic existence, unable to properly focus in the face of so much beauty.
But being the centre of your own universe came with a price, something so beautiful and fragile was bound to break. But I never expected that I would be the person to break it. But like so many things that look perfect, my perfect life could not hold up to the weight of heavy scrutiny and...
crack
I came to realise that I was what was holding all the pieces together.
crack
I was the common thread that was woven through the tapestry within my life, all those people with lives and thoughts and dreams...
crack
And the most important person of all was me.
The universe exploded into a million tiny fragments.

For years I tried to gather all those separate, tiny pieces and patch them back together. I felt the absence of the whole, a whole that now I wasn’t entirely sure had ever existed. But there were too many pieces and as fast as I tried to gather them up, more would slip away.
Eventually I gave up and I let all those pieces fall far away until they came to rest on their own.