In Love With The Theatre's Ghost?

It was like when you finished a puzzle and you stood back to admire your work only to find that there was one piece missing. You look all over the place for that one piece but eventually you give up and forget about it. You throw away your puzzle wishing you had been able to finish it. Only after when it's too late to fix do you find that last piece. What if that puzzle was the puzzle of life and that piece was love? What happens when you find that piece only to realize he doesn't have his puzzle?