"There is something in each of us that demands completeness. An unfinished building, a partially drawn design, an interrupted game, a broken pattern in a woven fabric, a theme cut short in the middle--each of these produces an unsatisfied feeling. There are, to be sure, fragments of rare beauty and significance, but always, as we look upon them, we feel that there is something lacking. We feel this lack very keenly--and sometimes very sorrowfully--when a delicate bit of china or glassware is shattered by some carelessness of ours. What was the perfect whole now lies broken on the floor. We pick up the three or four pieces and pathetically fit them to their former shape--vainly imagining a restored completeness. And then, growing more practical, we begin to wonder how the treasured article can be repaired. We are searching for the satisfying whole."
No one goes through life unscathed. Everyone experiences loss and pains throughout the entirety of life. It is never outgrown though often we become callous to it. We search to fix the broken in our lives, we agonize over loss and try to recreate something that life never gave absolute permanence to. We search for that feeling of wholeness again. What is it, the satisfying whole?
(I have no idea who wrote the quoted paragraph but I really like it. It is like a writing lesson the way it uses the word "completeness" at the beginning and the word "whole" in the last sentence. It does make me long for something, obviously, but the writing is very satisfying because the paragraph itself is so complete. I just had to post it.)