Good Enough

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They told me love would be enough. That if I loved someone enough, they would stay. That that person would love me too and be happy. But the truth is, the world isn't just black and white. Life isn't easy or fair. And some people can't stay. And others who can stay, won't. He could've stayed. He didn't want too. Not even for love.

I told I loved him. I served my heart on a platter, asking for it to be ripped to shreds but praying he wouldn't. I thought if he knew I loved him, if he knew the world could be beautiful, then he'd stay. Maybe if I spoke the words I felt, he'd stay. He told me he already knew, and he loved me too.

But it wasn't enough. How am I supposed to tell myself I wasn't enough? That I did everything I was supposed to, and more, and it wasn't enough. That our love couldn't balance out the pain. What am I supposed to believe in now that everything ever told to me was an illusion? Love was never my creation, love was my destruction.

Sometimes I swear I'll never love again. Maybe I don't want to. Maybe I do. But what if love is another lie we tell ourselves to sleep at night? Another excuse to keep us alive? For all we know love could be a mirage in a dessert, when all your life you've been searching for water. And all you are left with afterwards is more disappointment. When I met you I thought I had found water, a life source, a savior. I was a fool. Now I'm left with a hole where my heart should be after offering it up. Nothing's circulating my blood, getting oxygen to my brain, helping me think straight. Nothing is constantly beating reminding me I am not just alive but living. I am slowly dying and no one can see the way I will suffocate and bleed out like I should've the day he left me.

I loved him. It wasn't enough.

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