I just can't get enough
"Is this good enough?" He asks.
Define "good enough", I think but I bite back the retort before it can escape my lips. The words sound so pitiful and meager. I can't help but picture two people negotiating a deal.
"I told you we want Mariah Carey."
"Baby, Mimi just isn't gonna do it, you have to realize she has a new CD. I'm telling you I can guarantee Ashlee Simpson though."
"I guess that's good enough."
It's just a slightly different twist on the "do you feel like you settled?" question I used to get from him. My husband is nothing if not king of asking questions he-already-thinks-he-knows-the-answer-to-but-want-to-hear-the-you-reassure-him-otherwise. He is perpetually a six year-old boy with thirty-five years experience in manipulating. Though that isn't true, I have never seen him manipulate anyone but me. I guess it does run deep: both his feelings for me and the depth of my betrayals.
Is this "good enough"---this life of co-parenting with a man who won't forgive me for what he sees as tantamount to adultery even though I never even shared airspace with my "lover?" We share meals, jokes, news. We vacation, make decisions about our lives, our kids. We do what needs to be done.
Is it good enough that he provides and loves our children, and is a companion to me? Is it good enough to know he will never look at me with admiration or adoration through those eyes veiled with mistrust and anger? Is it good enough he will never show me the passionate drive and desire that took my breath away across three-thousand miles? Is it good enough I will never feel a man's tongue against my sex? Is it good enough that this will always be a competition of who is getting their needs met?
Is it good enough that I will never feel the way I did when I saw myself though your eyes?
I think the amount I lie to myself is proportionate to the depth of emptiness that bores within me. While my grief wanes, the hollowness grows. In that respect nothing will ever be good enough. Sometimes I feel like all my energy gets sucked into that hole. Resistance is futile.
It has to be good enough.
I make it good enough for me. I am the only one who can.
"We do the best we can," I tell him. "It's good enough for now."
***********
He knows that the time of year I think of you more is coming. I am a wretched thing.
I want so much for you to find this blog, and my words.
Define "good enough", I think but I bite back the retort before it can escape my lips. The words sound so pitiful and meager. I can't help but picture two people negotiating a deal.
"I told you we want Mariah Carey."
"Baby, Mimi just isn't gonna do it, you have to realize she has a new CD. I'm telling you I can guarantee Ashlee Simpson though."
"I guess that's good enough."
It's just a slightly different twist on the "do you feel like you settled?" question I used to get from him. My husband is nothing if not king of asking questions he-already-thinks-he-knows-the-answer-to-but-want-to-hear-the-you-reassure-him-otherwise. He is perpetually a six year-old boy with thirty-five years experience in manipulating. Though that isn't true, I have never seen him manipulate anyone but me. I guess it does run deep: both his feelings for me and the depth of my betrayals.
Is this "good enough"---this life of co-parenting with a man who won't forgive me for what he sees as tantamount to adultery even though I never even shared airspace with my "lover?" We share meals, jokes, news. We vacation, make decisions about our lives, our kids. We do what needs to be done.
Is it good enough that he provides and loves our children, and is a companion to me? Is it good enough to know he will never look at me with admiration or adoration through those eyes veiled with mistrust and anger? Is it good enough he will never show me the passionate drive and desire that took my breath away across three-thousand miles? Is it good enough I will never feel a man's tongue against my sex? Is it good enough that this will always be a competition of who is getting their needs met?
Is it good enough that I will never feel the way I did when I saw myself though your eyes?
I think the amount I lie to myself is proportionate to the depth of emptiness that bores within me. While my grief wanes, the hollowness grows. In that respect nothing will ever be good enough. Sometimes I feel like all my energy gets sucked into that hole. Resistance is futile.
It has to be good enough.
I make it good enough for me. I am the only one who can.
"We do the best we can," I tell him. "It's good enough for now."
***********
He knows that the time of year I think of you more is coming. I am a wretched thing.
I want so much for you to find this blog, and my words.
posted by Sabine at 12:58 AM
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