Momma says I’m quiet.
She doesn’t understand.
Says she’ll call a specialist.
He’ll help her understand, I’m sure of it.
He’ll help us find the missing puzzle piece.

It’s been two weeks.
The nice doctor didn’t find the missing puzzle piece.
He said he would! He promised!
He did give me some candies though.
But we still can’t find the missing puzzle piece .

Dada says I should start talking.
He doesn’t understand.
“Why won’t you talk?” He screams at me and walks away.
He doesn’t understand- little brother’s already been talking and we’re both boys.
He just doesn’t understand.
Momma runs after him and sister rolls her eyes at me.
I stay at the table.
I wonder why we still haven’t found the missing puzzle piece.

Three months have passed.
Dada’s said he’s sorry.
Momma says she’ll call another specialist
He’ll find the missing puzzle piece, she promises.
Dada sighs with relief
Brother claps and mother tries to hug but I don’t want her to-
I don’t want her to! I don’t want her to!
My eyes shut.
How odd I think back now, she still could not find the missing puzzle piece, even back then.

It’s been three years.
I’ve started talking now.
Yet I all I want to do is draw.
Drawing makes me happy-oh what was I going to say-
Mother still can’t find the missing puzzle piece.

It’s 1994 and I’m thirteen now.
Momma’s taking me to a specialist again.
Doesn’t matter that I’ve excelled in school.
Teacher says I’m too quiet and don’t have many friends.
Momma says she has to take me to a specialist.
I let her take me but before we go, I take my science homework with me.
The appointment’s at 7 and science homework always has to be done before 6 P.M.
Momma rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anything.
Momma doesn’t understand.
How could she?
Science is always done everyday before 6 P.M.
You can’t change that!

I’m fifteen and my teacher calls my mother.
I hear them on the phone.
Teacher says I won’t look up and refuse to pay attention.
I don’t hear much else.
Next day, momma takes me out of that school.

I’m twenty now
I’ve met someone
I think I love her… she doesn’t love me back
Says I’m rude and am overly obsessed with drawing.
“It’s weird.” She says.
She walks away.
I wish she had stayed.
I know she’s right though… it is part of my diagnosis
Too bad she didn’t know.

I’m twenty-five now and about to get married
I’ve found someone.
She’s gets me. She understands the rules and the OCD.
We don’t always understand others but we do understand each other.
Plus, I don’t mind hugging her.
I think I might have found the missing puzzle piece.

I’m thirty now and waiting for my wife to come home from work.
Southpark plays on television.
“He has A** burgers.” A character says. It’s meant to be a joke but I don’t find anything about it funny.
I turn it off – I don’t want to listen to it, I don’t want to listen to it, I don’t want to!
I breathe in and out, in and out - just like they told me to - I take my medication, it calms me down.
I draw until my wife comes home.
She smiles when she sees my painting- I feel relieved.

I’m thirty-five and my wife’s just given birth to our firstborn.
I didn’t want to have him at first- what if he had turned out like me?  What if he didn’t understand others? What if no one got him?
All these questions made me so hesitant.
But now as I stand in the hospital room, and look down at his sleeping face, I swear I’ll help him find the missing puzzle piece just like I found mine.