An Incomplete Puzzle

Something's missing and I don't know what it is. I have this mindset of exactly how I want my life to be: how it was back when I was perpetually happy. I know I'll never get that back, not all of those aspects. Some I'm trying too hard to replace, others can't be replaced.

I still feel something missing. The outline of the puzzle is there, but there's no middle. Rather, it feels like the pieces are all there but they're just grey and it doesn't make a picture--they mean nothing.

That's why the missing piece to my perfect life puzzle must be myself.

Shaded

You are like a cloud lingering above me,
Meant for light protection from the harsh sun
And when I look up and see your light airy wisps, it's supposed to make me smile.
It doesn't.
What would really make me smile is if you allowed the sun to pass through and shine on my face.
And you would interest me more if you were thicker or darker.
Gather more moisture to add to this cloud.
Perhaps you were a black, looming storm cloud that produced lightning?
That would provide me more pleasant light and warmth than the lovely horror you fail to shade me from.