i hate that feeling you get when you all you think “i’m so not enough” and then you can’t even talk to anyone about it because you don’t want them to tell you it is okay. you just want to hear the fucking truth and want to be told, “yeah, you aren’t.” this way you can just be relieved.
‘cos my biggest fear is that i’m lying to myself and would it kill someone to tell me it isn’t okay? to tell me that i am right about this and that i am not enough anymore. i hate it when people try to be nice and lie to my face ‘cos they think it is better than the alternative.
sometimes (all the time) i hate the fact that i need people. why can’t i go back to to the way i was before? when needing people wasn’t an issue, when i didn’t feel like i needed someone to help me keep my head afloat. now though, i’m all broken inside ‘cos i gave into it. i let people come and be part of me. and now i have to let go all over again.
i’ve broken my own heart plenty of times; why do they keep promising that they won’t break my heart? is it to make themselves feel better? to try to and prove that i am wrong about people?
i ask that people not make promises they cannot keep. maybe they didn’t know they couldn’t keep this promise, but i sure as a bear shits in the would knew that they wouldn’t, couldn’t and most likely shouldn’t.
am i worth their promises? probably not. but for one shining moment, i felt special.
i’m not, though, special in that way. i’m special in the way that i don’t lie to myself about shit. i see it for what it is and i let people know that i know. i just wish other people could do that, too. see when they fuck shit up and can just admit it.
they won’t. but it is okay, i will just clean up the mess. pick up the pieces. send you back out to the big, scary world where you will forget about me for a while, until the next time you need someone to help put you back together.
i’m as much to blame as you. i promise myself that i will let go. i won’t pick up the phone, won’t answer the text message, won’t think about you at all, because i know you aren’t thinking about me. i’m not even a blip on the radar.
all that talk about how you can’t talk to anyone else, no one sees what i see, that i listen differently. but now that there is a hand to hold that isn’t mine, a place to sleep that isn’t here, it doesn’t matter how much more i am than someone else. i am not enough.
what breaks my heart is that you were enough. i don’t need the same things other people do. i understand that most of us are trying to find a soul mate, a significant other. someone to share our bodies with because that is what we have.
i did that once. and it ended. not badly but not good either. but i don’t miss that. all the hurt. all the pleasure. everything in between. i’m not looking for a boyfriend, girlfriend or whatever else there is. i was just looking for someone to be above all that. more than some person i know. more than a friend. more than a sibling. more than someone to fall in love with. but i’m not enough for other people like that.
everyone else is looking for their “once in a lifetime”, that mysterious pull of romantic love. it’s okay. i understand. i’m just asking that you take back all those promises you gave me. i told you what i wanted. and you told me what you thought i wanted to hear.
i told you once before, i want to hear the fucking truth. i don’t run away from it. no reason to. i respect it. if you can’t be there for me, if you have to leave me, just tell me. don’t promise that you won’t walk away like the others. don’t promise me that you will always be mine in some small way.
you’re selfish. and that’s okay. i’m selfish, too. only difference? i know that i am and it doesn’t kill me to admit that i do things because of it. it’s the reason why i like to take care of people - it makes me feel better because other people think i am a better person because of it. fuck that. i do it for me. everyone is selfish, i am just not hiding it. it doesn’t kill me to know that about myself.
i’m not enough. and i wish, i wish so fucking hard that when i tell you that, you simply agree. don’t tell me it’s okay. don’t fucking stroke my hair. don’t tell me that you will always be there for me. you won’t be there for me, not always.
but when your heart breaks again, and you feel like nothing good is ever going to happen, when you are so lost and scared and stuck in the dark - let me know. just let me know.
i know that you will leave me, that i won’t be enough, not always. but when you need me, i will be there. i will give myself over to your whims, to love you and care for you and make sure that you are all better. and i will watch you leave me again and it will kill me a little more.
but i will wait for your return, knowing that one day you won’t.
that’s okay. it is enough.