I May Be Too Much For Him, But I’m Enough For Me

Carmen Jost
Carmen Jost

I sit here in the hotel we were in 5 months ago. As hard as I try, I can’t not feel his hands on my back.

Closing my eyes, the hope I felt back then comes back so fast.

I won’t pretend I don’t believe in fate and this is the closest thing I’ve ever come to it. Somehow we ended up in the same place away from home temporarily. It had to be a sign, but I tried to push that away. We spent the weekend wrapped up in each other. I know he will never admit it, but only couples have romantic weekends. We kissed in public, he held my hand as we wandered through the brewery, acting like all the other couples around us. I let myself sink into the pure joy I felt until I ended it that Sunday. We stood by his yellow mustang, where I prodded and poked and told him how I felt. I couldn’t help it. Holding everything in for so long, we never talked about the serious. Skirting around everything for so long, you know the spending all our time together and but never saying anything out loud.

Oh how I wished he would say something out loud.

We didn’t talk for weeks and then of course when we get around each other, everything went back to how it was. Tangled together and denying everything and him telling me he didn’t care. How often he tells me doesn’t care.

But he looks at me like that. I can’t even describe it. But there is something there.

The toxic poison seeping into me as I try to keep it together. If only he had more time, if only I could be better, if only I could just breathe through the pain. And over and over again it happens. We kiss and love and he pulls back and pushes back because one way couldn’t be enough. It always has to be both. But I stand there. Stuck.

Because I love and feel and always too much. I’m always too much.

For months, I thought this was a bad thing. Cringing on the inside, when I think how far I let it go and how I let him treat me. I let his meanness dye my skin black, to be honest, well I let myself be dyed. But then I rose. I became a clique and I rose from the ashes. I picked myself up in spite of him, in front of him. He saw what he couldn’t control. He saw a fire, he couldn’t quell. I didn’t even give him a chance. I finally scorched the earth around me. That’s how I got out.

I became too much for him to handle, but finally enough for me. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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