I Was Never Enough

I can't quite tell what kind of writing this is, but it is about how I felt when I realized I wasn't enough for someone I really liked.

As I feel myself losing more and more oxygen I proceed to whisper four words into the water that was slowly suffocating me. Four words that followed me wherever I went, whoever I was with. Four words I was never able to say to his face, to her face, to anyone's face.

Four words I was too ashamed of to write down on paper. Now these four words would slowly turn into bubbles and rise to the surface, they would finally be out there.

“Why wasn’t I enough?”

As I lie in bed once again, reflecting on what happened today, I feel so ashamed. I want to hit my head against a brick wall until I bleed and release everything that is suffocating my brain. My entire body is tense, and my stomach feels sad. Even though it follows me everywhere, I couldn’t tell you what sadness looked like, I never dared to look it straight into its eyes. My legs felt heavy, and the more I moved them, the more my body lost it’s last bits of energy. I hated it, I hated all of it. But who would want to hear my pity? Who would want to listen to any of my pain? All of it had to stay within my own skin and bones. My heart couldn’t escape my lips, my aches couldn’t crash through the metal bars of my teeth.  So I let it all built up inside of me. All the anger, the sadness, the confusion, the hope, the disappointment. And by tomorrow, I would do it all again, knowing I would feel the same way by the time I laid back down in bed, regretting everything I have done. I would say and feel the same things, do and make the same mistakes. All for him, and the little bit of recognition I could get. For that was the closest thing I could get to his love.

My whole body felt so light when you held me, my head felt empty when you said my name. All the pain would be pushed back when we laughed together. But as you were the one that mattered to me most, I was just another number. I tried to get answers from you, but you were like an empty fruit. The more I tried to press, the more wrinkled you got, and I would never get any juice. I realize today, that you never had anything inside yourself, and that all my time spent on you, all the time I watched you begin to shrivel, holding on to every last piece had of you, was a waste. I never got a happy story, only stabbing let downs. I tried my best, while in return I didn’t even get a half-assed try. It still pains me, but I know the memory of me has slowly faded.

As I looked for you in that wide field, I looked for what might have been us. As it was her I found, I knew that we were just a lie that you fed me happily. I always thought I was a part of your life, a part of what made your heartbeat maybe just a little bit faster, but I realize now, I wasn’t even a part of your fingertips, I never reached your head, your heart. And why are you still in my head? Why are you still haunting me in my dreams? It is something no one will explain to me, no one will give me an answer. Maybe it is because you gave me the most beautiful lie, I have ever lived in. The most wonderful moment, before you put that knife in my back. A moment that outshines all the darkness. And now, with a scar in my back and the truth that is so painful in my heart, I just miss the game of pretend, the moments I knew nothing of the time that I live now.

I want to be part of the game, even if it is bad for me, nothing can hurt more than the way I feel now.