What's So Good About Picking Up The Pieces Novels & Stories

Sarah set a mug of tea in front of me. “Thanks,” I said. She sat beside me, shoulder to shoulder. “We’ll figure it out,” she said. “Both of us.” I nodded. But I wasn’t sure I believed her. Because some things can’t be figured out. Some things just… break. And when they do, you either learn to live with the pieces, or you spend the rest of your life trying to glue them back together. I sipped my tea. And wondered which one I’d choose.

Chapter 64 Ellie The hardest part about any traumatic experience is ; accepting that something awful has happened to you . You can only be thankful for what you have and count your blessings . I'm no stranger to trauma , but after every trauma or horrific experience something's got to give and you have to find it within you to pick up the pieces one by one and try and assemble the jigsaw puzzle pieces of your life together .

There are pieces of him missing. Stepping up to the missing section of his soul I examine it to see how I can fix it. With nothing else in this room to use, it could just always be a gapping hole. Even if I stood there, there would still be missing pieces. But something can be whole even if it has missing pieces. Just because a pie is missing a slice it is still a pie. A person missing a piece is still a person. "So, it seems that you were able to fix him. What do you think of your work?" Kawa ask as she appears before me to see the gaping hole in the wall.

She found out her purpose, her passion and most of she met the person who changed her whole world. She feels in love, She lost in love, she fought for love and finally, she won. Life was continuously throwing struggles at her and bad stuff did happen to her but she managed to power through. This story is about a simple girl with big dreams. She had been broken and shook but she never gave up on her love. Cause love is patient, it's kind, it doesn't take offences, it's not selfish, it's doesn't hold a grudge, It always protects, always cares, always trusts, it doesn't hesitate, always hopes, always perseveres and most of all Love always wins.

Cries for help and curses intertwined. I felt more and more remorse coming from them, and my spirit solidified. Silently, I squatted and reached for the crushed birthday cake. I tasted it. It was delicious, much better than the cupcake I bought for five dollars. The little boy suddenly looked my way. Pointing at me, he yelped. No one could see me. I walked over and gently held his hand. Then, I covered his eyes. "Don't look. You'll feel bad."

Because sometimes, the most beautiful things are the ones that have been broken and then pieced back together again. I hug Becky tightly, feeling the weight of all that we've been through, and all that we still have to overcome. But for the first time in a long time, I feel hopeful. Hopeful that we can build something new, something stronger, out of the broken pieces of our past.

His deep, searching eyes scanned the mangled face before him. After a meticulous examination, he made his assessment. “I can’t seem to get the face right. The skull’s incomplete, and some key pieces are missing. “I suggest you take another look around the blast site. You might find the missing parts.” The police team took his advice and sent a squad to search the explosion site that very night for the remaining fragments of my body. However, Patrick couldn’t tear his eyes away from my remains. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally asked, “Was the victim left-handed?”

No matter how many times we knock on their doors, they push us away because, in their eyes, we become nothing but toxic people walking on Earth and they have to avoid us at all costs as they never want to get hurt again. But maybe we still have some luck left in our lives, just a tiny flicker that will make us hopeful again. Maybe the ones we pushed away are not gone forever as we thought they were, maybe they still see the good in us despite the messed up things we have done. Whether we believe it or not, the ones we hurt the most could turn out to be the ones we are in terrible need of to pick up our broken pieces and glue them back together.

As I tried to move it, to watch the writing on it, the mug slipped from my hand accidentally and smashed to pieces on the ground. For a few moments, I could only stare between my mother's name on the chit and the broken glass shards; until I managed to grab a hold of myself and started cleaning up the mess. A realisation burning in the back of my mind, as I gathered the broken pieces. Sometimes, all that's left for us to do, is collect the broken pieces. Because like things; relationships once broken can never be completely put back together in the same way, no matter what. ———————-

I was already breaking. And this time, I wasn't sure I'd pick up the pieces of myself back together again.