enough
“i wish i had a partner,” my friend sighs, “i’m so lonely.”
but i’m right here, i think. although i don’t say that. instead i say, “why?”
my friend shrugs. “i just want someone to go on dates with, y’know? we can hold hands, go to the movies, cuddle, that sort of stuff.”
i frown. “don’t we do that?” we don’t call them dates, but we’ve definitely done everything they mentioned at least once.
they sigh again. “it’s not the same.”
“why not?”
“i don’t know. it’s just different. i guess i just want somebody to love me.”
but i love you, i think, i’m right here and i love you so much. why does it matter what kind of love it is? you mean so much to me regardless.
why can’t i be enough for you?
“you get it, right?” they say. and i nod, a painful, confusing ball of emotions settling in the pit of my stomach.
i don’t get it at all.
