I was that one. The one who hung out in those giant groups. I was a completed puzzle. Not one piece missing. But, that was only third grade. Years went on, one left, and another, and before I knew it, I was just one of the millions of pizzle pieces on the table. I became independent, myself was all I had for school. Now, I sit from afar, and look at what I used to be. That part of me was gone, that was a puzzle piece, missing. A few more years went by, more pieces had gotten lost. Or, was I just the missing one? I never found out. I remained to myself. As I saw all of my old friends pass me by. Dating, happy together. While I, just sat by myself. Then, as I thought I was just a bunch of puzzle pieces, I found out, I am in the group like old me. Also, I am a bunch of puzzle pieces, but more are to be connected.