The Missing Piece

Love. It is a simple and mere four-letter word, as it seems, but it holds so much magic and power that it is inexplicable to begin with. Over the past centuries and even millennia, the word "love" has evolved significantly, earning different and unique definitions. Some may say that love is patient, kind, and blind, but if I were given the chance to express my own definition of love, I would say that love is a complex feeling. Love is so complex that most of the time it is inexplicable, to the extent that you are not able to find the right and appropriate word or words to express the feeling that is dominating and pioneering inside you. Love is so special and sacred that even a day, specifically the 14th of February, is commemorated to celebrate the love shared between two people. How enticing, right? Being able to see couples spend and enjoy their day with satisfied and fulfilled hearts is similar to a picturesque view, seeing that they are getting the love that they deserve and that they have finally found a person whom they can turn to, a person that believes in their capabilities, and a person that accepts and embraces them for who they truly are. I had celebrated Valentine's Day how many times already, but how am I still unable to find the true essence of this day?

I had been "celebrating" Valentine's Day for over fifteen years already. Some were momentous and some were simple, but for sure, none were good or bad enough to be able to share my best or worst encounters with the whole group. For this year's edition of Valentine's, I anticipated that this would be a normal day for me, similar to the other days of the year. And I was not disheartened, as it was indeed a mediocre one. I woke up and started to get ready for school, following the same routine I had been following for months already, and it is starting to get tiring already. Going back to the story, I was about to leave for school when I saw my father giving a minute, periwinkle-colored flower to my mother, with a matching greeting to her, "Happy Valentine's Day!" This was a simple gesture for them, but for me, it was a special, invaluable moment. After I saw that, I headed out with a smile on my face. As I entered the gates of Ilocos Sur National High School, I saw my schoolmates wearing different colors of shirts and blouses that represented their love status at that moment. I shrugged it out of my mind and continued to walk as I was almost late for our first subject. As I entered our room, I saw my classmates also wearing different colors of shirts, and I also saw most of them wearing their uniforms, just like I was wearing that day. I was certainly happy for them that they were able to express the love that they have been feeling, and I was feeling self-pity for not being able to explain mine, even in the smallest way possible. Mrs. Martinez walked inside the room wearing her red blouse, enough to brighten the whole room. She gave us a Valentine's greeting, and we were able to greet her back in return. Fast forward: after recess, I was again preparing myself for intensive training for the upcoming Division Schools Press Conference 2023. With Zion as our news writer, Jericson as our editorial writer, Janea as our layout artist, and Keira as our sports writer, we prepared articles connected to our chosen topics all day, and it was tiresome, but it was also a day well spent because we were laughing and gossiping along the way. After I bid my goodbyes to them as the clock struck 5, I headed out of our school. My sibling had fetched me from school, and as soon as we reached our house, I saw her holding a piece of sunflower in her hand, given by her beau. I am elated for her, of course, because I can see that she is being appreciated and treated the way that she deserves. To conclude that day, I ate dinner with my family, prepared for bed, and finally jumped into bed. I stared at the night sky from my point of view, with the moon glowing so radiantly. Before I slept, I even had the chance to ask myself a simple question: When?

Over the past fifteen years, I cannot deny that sometimes I feel a little bit lonely. I do not know if this was just a phase of being a teenager or whatever, but this is surely inexplicable. Maybe because at some point in my life, I had believed that Valentine's Day is better when you celebrate it with a special someone, because this is what society had labeled the day of hearts as. It significantly affected my way of thinking, and this was becoming hopeless, unfortunately. These past few days, I have reflected on the fact that love is just another magical fairy tale. Maybe I am too young, and destiny has not allowed me to embark on this journey yet. Everything comes for a reason, and I should not force things I do not have control over. But in the last few months, I could not stop myself from feeling that something was missing. The feeling I had was similar to a 10,000-piece jigsaw puzzle, almost majestic enough to be called a picturesque scene, to be called enough in the sight of everyone, but something was definitely missing, as a piece was nowhere to be found that should be placed in the middle, now making it incomplete and frustrating to look at. A single jigsaw puzzle was lost, and without it, the whole puzzle would be flawed and invalid. As I kept pondering on it, I realized that I had been chasing and spending the entirety of my life specifically searching for that undiscoverable piece, without even knowing that the missing piece of this regal, luxurious jigsaw puzzle of mine was all the time, me.

Reference: The Missing Piece Jigsaw Puzzles. (n.d.). Fine Art America. https://fineartamerica.com/shop/puzzles/the+missing+piece