The Love That Should Never Have Been: Pt 4 It’s Not Me, It’s Us.

I know it’s not me.
Not because I’m lacking.

Not because I’m not pretty enough, smart enough, quick enough, woman enough. 

It’s not because you think I’m not enough in any capacity. 

Except that’s exactly what you think because that’s what I am: I am not enough. 

I am insufficient. In some energetic, magnetic, connective way, I fall short. 

What pains me most is not necessarily even that you don’t see me as sufficient, but that it’s not even something I can do anything about. Half the time I don’t even fully grasp what it is that isn’t enough. What this elusive electricity is that I don’t seem to elicit in your being.

It kills me that you have had this energy with seemingly everyone else: your previous partners, women you’ve been within the past, that you might currently have it with someone, and will have it with others in the future. 

But we… we will never. I will never be enough.

The way you talk about it often makes me feel like I’m the only person you have ever experienced this shortcoming with. I’m some sort of mutant, and not the good kind. The way you express past experiences, with a light in your eyes talk about the women who have lit your sacral soul on fire. The way you so easily state “I just want to cuddle, I don’t need to fuck you” or “You’ll never be able to satisfy me” literally sends pangs of sharp pain through my heart and 

sinking into my stomach.

As a woman, I feel broken.

I’m disgusted to admit that on occasion it has made me wonder, am I broken?

I know that not to be true. In the depths of my soul, I understand this isn’t on me. 

This has nothing to do with how much of a woman I am, or if I am “good enough”. 

I am fully aware this is a mutual lack of physical/energetic connection. I even experience the same “something just not quite there” feeling. This connect we do have is so close to perfect, but ever so just slightly off. 

The irony is you have healed me in so many ways, and yet this has cut me so deep. There are moments when I want to ignore it, to push it aside and accept what we do have. Because it’s so beautiful, nurturing, expansive, so fun and playful, so open and real. And yet I know that if we had decided to move forward we would have lost each other forever. 

Most of the time what pangs me isn’t that we’ve chosen not to be together, but this idea that I wasn’t good enough for you and someone else, anyone else, is.
I hate to admit it because it feels weak and like you’re winning “the game” or are in control of my feelings, and I also know it’s in the near future, but I fear the day you sleep with another woman. Because I know that a new level of heartbreak and insecurity awaits me on the other side of that bridge. Another layer of self-confidence and self-love will be born in that moment of brief pain and struggle.

I also know that it will push us into yet another layer of relating and authenticity. Oddly I am aware that it will bring us closer together once I work through everything it will bring up for me. 

And while this missing “thing” is a shared truth, it still hurts my heart like nothing I have previously experienced.