I feel like I’ll never be enough for you. I feel like you’ll always want more out of me. I feel like you’ll always want to see a version of me I don’t recognize, pulling me towards directions I don’t want to follow.
I feel like no matter how much I give, you’ll always want to take. One bite after the other and I’ll be left with an empty plate in hand, at most, only minute crumbs left in sight.
The me you love so much, is the me I hate so much. You love the version of me that brings your thoughts, desires and visions to life. You love the version of me that I’m not.
Foolish me. I was convincing myself that at some point you would want a little less. I thought at some point you would let go and let me be. How naïve of me to think that at some point I’d be set free. Completely free. You release a leash just to replace it with one that’s a little shinier, one of a different color.
You lurk in the dark like a shadow I can’t shake off and no matter how much light I let in, you’re the shadow I always see.
I exceed my expectations to exceed yours and all this excess has left me hopeless.
I feel like I’ll never be enough for you; like you’ll always see me as a broken thing that needs to be fixed – put back together; piece by piece, little by little. You’ll always see me as unfinished and incomplete, in other words, not at my best.
You know best, right? At least that’s what I’d say to myself while I let you mold me. You know best. But, here’s the thing: I never once felt like I needed fixing. I never felt broken. I never felt incomplete or alone.
I used to shine bright like the sun, beaming with hope and crazy, crazy dreams. In my mind they were not all that crazy, they were just crazy big.
I used to smile for a living and dance to no rhythm.
The world looked a lot more beautiful back then when I’d sing at the top of my lungs without questioning whether I sang on key. A little more carefree, a little lighter.
You were the one who broke me into small little pieces and then began to pick them up in a twisted attempt to mend and shape me into something ‘better’. What exactly is better? What exactly is complete? What exactly is whole?
Now I’m so far gone on this journey of which I have no control over. I gave it up to you long ago and the path I now walk is so unfamiliar I don’t think I’d be able to go back to the start.
I feel like I’ll never be enough for you, but maybe that’s a good thing.
Maybe it means I haven’t given up yet. Maybe it means a part of me is still fighting against you. Maybe a part of me wants me to win against you. That part of me might be the only part that still tries to let the light beam through a tiny hole. It’s the part that still holds on to hope and never lets go of the crazy dreams. It’s the part that dances in a room full of people like no one’s watching and would look at the mirror and be proud of who she has become.
If that’s the case I hope she lives on. I hope she never throws in the towel; never gives in to the pressures of being unbroken.
I hope she’s never enough for you.