I’m not too much, you’re simply not enough.
By
Updated 6 years ago,February 7, 2019
Love never starts in remarkable ways.
Its the ability to make it last that renders its beauty.
Tobi
I met him and saw ordinariness.
No one must know of my weaknesses and inadequacies.
I havent been myself for so long now.
I sought for those who could mend my heart.
He was the one.
Everything and everyone else was wrong; what then?
I should wait for a future uncertain, comfortable in my innaction.
Life just happens isnt that what they told us in our prepubescence.
I recall, late at night, I whispered his name.
He truly was the dream.
Happily ever after was the constant quest to a better tomorrow in his arms.
Having him inside of me meant everything.
To him it meant another Tuesday night.
Hindsight hurts; clarity still feels uncertain.
The feel of a man on my body remained unfamiliar.
No man has ever known how to hold me right.
Not in the tightness or length of embrace but in meaning.
Oh, how I need to be held like I matter.
Love the scars that even time has yet to heal.
He looked at me different, so I fell into my love for him.
There was no depth to his gaze.
The moment he lived in wasnt a choice, it was all that he knew.
I recognize my tendency to idealize people that are unable to protect, uplift or support me.
He could at no moment fix things he still cant fathom.
Potential is never a sustainable fuel for love.
I am not oblivious to him creeping in.
I see him holding onto my love like the last thread on the rope of feared desolation.
The truth is that I love him because I chose to, not because I needed to.
I dont love him despite his flaws, I love him because of them.
Is the only thing truly keeping us apart my inability to love myself more than I do him.
The pain and complications werent steering me away but closer from the me I believed he deserved.
Letting go was not an option.
A life from afar is no life at all.
Am I not deserving of a love that lasts a thousand years?
I wont need him as much.
I wont once I realise how much I love myself, or rather how much I should.
This pain is just the manifestation of not loving me enough.
If I did, it wouldnt hurt so bad that he wont.
Be a happier version of you even with someone debilitatingly dull.
I wanted to be the mountain to his sea, but he swallowed me whole following the moon.
I became too good at hiding my pain in the crevices of myself I dont allow anyone in.
You will not see me cry.
You will not hear me erode away.
You will never know of my burden unless youre prepared to release me of it.
But he is weak.
Weaker than he knows.
A simple-minded boy he is.
Sometimes I hear a knock at the door, but I am met with a crystalline fishbowl of vacancy.
Its coming from within.
My body is on its knees, begging me to end its suffering because the pain has long ceased.
Allow your soul to appropriate your body.
It all seems so simple.
I wasnt locked out, I was locked in.
Attempting to control everything will not magically turn him into who I need him to be.
Trying my hardest is not going to guarantee the results I so desperately hoped for.
Loving him doesnt make him love me back.
Missing him will not make him come back.
And him coming back will not mend the heart he broke.
Even if he could make me happy, that wasnt quite what I wanted.
My heart had to be broken so I could remember how to make it whole.
When my eyes are too heavy to stare into blankness, I drift to a place of safety.
There, I am finally understood.
He tainted my mind.
Shamelessly promising a life he could never provide.
The weight of the world will anchor me.
It forbade me from moving forward, and I didnt know how to rid of it once.
My feet were bleeding through and people passed me by because I shed no tears for strangers.
I must be fine.
I ought to be.
I stay away from happiness because I dont know how to hold onto it.
I am desired, yet the gaze people have upon me solely roots from lust.
My body is no temple, lacks love and nurture.
Nor is it sacred.
It is dilapidated, used and valueless.
A chiffon doll forgotten by more remarkable playthings.
Oversighted for its apparent lack of fragility, but the sutures are ruptured.
It never felt right.
Easy is never sustainable for people like me.
The true reward is not in the obtention but in the labor put into attaining.
Monotony may be striking to you but I want so much more out of life.
Is it realistic to hope for more?
The world is made of water and faith.
I will not let despair consume me.
I will swim in the faith the world wraps me in even if I drown.
Im not too much, youre simply not enough.
I will wonder where you are no more.
The compass inside my heart is steering me towards a love thats true.
A love you do not possess.
Your words arent reiterated by your action.
I taught you how to treat me.
I taught you wrong.
You cannot mend my heart.
