I Should Be Enough

In medieval times, I would have found a river or dived into the ocean instead of taking a shower to hide my tears.

What is it about working out that sometimes makes me unravel?

Every time I really push myself with sprinting or weights it feels good but most times after I feel like I must have shaken a chakra that I have not given proper attention.

My legs always ache. But sometimes, in the shower afterward, it's a pain in my chest that hurts more.

It's the feeling of “What now?”

It's the feeling of “What is it all for?”

I am enough. I tell myself that.

Most days, I don’t think of any of this.

I don’t think about what is missing.

Am I thinking all of this because it's the end of the week, and I will get a break from the demands of my Store Manager job?

Having long days makes it hard to think of much else.

The weekend receptionist job gives me time to think.

I don’t think that is the only reason.

It's Valentine's Day.

Even as I type those words, that sounds so dumb.

It's just a day.

But somehow, the emptiness in this night hurts more than yesterday or the day before that.

How is it that I didn’t even think about this emptiness yesterday?

Yesterday, there was no time.

I have always said you must love yourself before you can love someone else correctly.

I do love myself.

Don’t I?

Isn’t that supposed to be enough?

Why, then, do I have this longing within me for something more?

Why do I imagine your fingers somehow inexplicably knowing my skin like you have stayed up late studying a map to find exactly where I need to be touched?

When I see the picture of your hand, I imagine that your fingers will somehow remember, as I do.

You would not need to use a compass for what you seek from me.

Even guidance from me, I sense you would not allow.

In fact, I have often thought that if it were up to you, you would hold my hands above my head and insist that I not lead you.

In my imagination, I sense that your hands would always find me in the dark.

Not because, in this dimension, you have felt my skin but because somehow, deep within your subconscious, you remember me from another plane of our existence.

Each of your fingers that I long to feel within mine knows me.

The memory of us is in your eyes.

I want you close.

I want to look deep within you to understand you again.

To get lost in your values, complexities, and imperfections.

Looking there, I feel transparent, understood, and still desired.

Tonight, I need you.

Even if I know that I should be enough.