Not enough

I thought maybe you could mean something to me. That your kind attentiveness would be enough to me. There was always that whisper in the back of my head that always insisted, "You're worth more. This is not enough."

When people asked about you I would shrug my shoulders. Tell them I wasn't sure exactly what we were or what I wanted us to be. Looking back I see that the uncertainty that made a nest for itself in my stomach whenever you came up in conversation should have been a dead giveaway.

I should have known.

I should have know that although the daily text messages were flattering, the fact that you never worked up the nerve to call me meant you didn't understand me. When you said you only looked out for yourself I should have known that you were incompatible with my need to love everyone I came into contact with.

But I am a stubborn woman, so it took me a little longer to see, that a foolish boy in a man's body, no matter how attractive, kind, or attentive he may be, would never be enough for me.