Life is akin to a puzzle. All the pieces are scattered about, you have to search for the right ones. Come up with a system to go about assembling them. And sometimes things don't go as planned. Pieces get lost, or chewed, or mixed with other puzzles.
When you're born, your puzzle begins. I figure you start out with the framework. The first step to putting together a puzzle is creating the edges. You have your boundaries and it's the meat of the puzzle that's scattered, left for you to figure out.
For me, I was lucky to receive some pretty big pieces early on. Pieces that fit, that aren't going anywhere. It's the other pieces that are giving me trouble. In really complex puzzles you sometimes fit a piece into a space that seems perfect. You want to put it there, but the fit is just a little off, you want to make it fit, but it's just a little loose, or the lines don't quite match. These "almost" pieces are the ones that have caused me so much grief. I don't think I'm alone in my intense desire to finish my puzzle. So, I leave the almost pieces in place with the ignorant hope that magically they will mould themselves to fit. Disregarding the coming frustration of losing those pieces, of seeing holes where I thought I had none.
It's interesting watching people try to fit into my life. The turning of every which way. The sliding of edges, trying to force because you want to fit so bad. The snicking snap when finally grooves and contours adhere. The heavy warm weight I fell when I know I've found another piece.
The commitment of time, the trial and error, the coming back time and time again; these are the great things about puzzles and life.