I'm not enough for him. But he's more than enough for me.
I slump onto the floor, leaning against my not brother’s matress as he says, “You shouldn’t do this to yourself. You need to talk. You need to not bottle it up. Talk to me.”
I look up and meet his earnest hazel eyes, as he patiently awaits my reply. I sigh loudly, trying to pull my famous blasé gag. I should know better though. He sees right through that.
“Come on.” He says gently. He sits on the mattress, near me. I flop down onto my stomach, tracing circles on his carpet.
“I don’t even know what I want from him anymore.” I say softly. “He’ll be all happy and loving like one fourth of the time. The rest of the time it’s like he really couldn’t care any less about me.”
I’m playing with a piece of plasitc, scraping on the floor as I talk. I use a complete monotone.
“It’s just hard to deal with…” I finish weakly.
He shakes his hair out of his eyes. “Would you take him back? If he wanted you back, would you go back to him.”
“In a heartbeat.” I say . Even though I’m still talking in a monotone, my voice cracks. I feel my face heating.
He sighs. “Then ask for him back.”
“It doesn’t work that way!” I say, with the most emotion I’ve had the entire time. “It takes two. We BOTH have to want this. He doesn’t. It takes two to make it, one break it.” I repeat myself, emphasizing my point.
“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” is his reply.
I exhale roughly. “I’ve got too much pride to go begging him to take me back that way. I still want him. But I won’t beg.” Not to mention I’m not even sure that I WANT him one hundred percent. As for my notbrother, he can’t even know about the other half of this. The half that wants HIM.
“You know, I read this one quote.” He says, fiddling with the sheet, focusing on it intently and pretending not to notice how I’m trembling and pale. “It goes something like, ‘Giving up doesn’t always make you weak, sometimes it just means you have the strength to let go.”
And that’s what finally breaks me. I start to cry, almost completely silent still. I gasp as quietly as I can, trying to breathe, and yet hold back everything at the same time. Gritting my teeth, I bury my head in my arms, resting them on my knees. My shoulders are shaking violently, but I still only emit the smallest noises.
He doesn’t know what to do at first, I don’t think.He just lets me sit there. As my crying intensifys, I bite my finger to try and stifle my sobs.
“Don’t bite yourself,” he says, softly but forcefully. I don’t listen, biting down harder, losing control bit by bit. I can’t see, but I hear the sheets rustle. Suddenly there are arms around me. I don’t try to resist, instead burying my head in his chest. He clutches me tighter, whispering gently “Hey. Hey. It’s ok.”
At first my crying gets worse, but as it slows down, he pulls my hand out of my mouth, still saying, “Hey,” over and over and over again.
He still releases me sooner than I would’ve liked, though he keeps one arm around me, and rubs my arm gently with his other. I struggle to breathe easier. I’m still trembling, and I can feel his heart beating still. He’s warm and I feel so safe with him there. I feel so protected, so cared for. It’s a new feeling. A comfortable one. I don’t want to leave him, and I don’t even want to stop crying. I want to stay here with him holding me while I cry out everything that I’ve been holding back.
I don’t know how long it is, but eventually I manage to stop somehow. I look up, feeling ashamed of myself. I look up at him, and am met by a gaze that reads nothing but concern and care.
“Are you gonna be ok?” It’s not just a filler, it’s a real question. If I were to answer no, he’d stay with me as long or longer than he had to. I just nod. This has to be enough for me. For the moment. Just knowing he cares is enough.
Thanks for reading slash listening to my problems hahah. rates and reviews appreciated. xoxo