"Enough" by Emma Briseno
Your stubbled cheek against the flush of mine, is how we spent a quarter of our lives.
Entangled, in plush blankets, surrounded by popcorn and chocolate wrappers, we exchanged sour patch kid kisses in the sound of the rain on the roof.
Sticky, we spent 100 degree summers under the wind of a fan. Playing footsies as to keep closeness, but to avoid overheating.
Distant, you became. Providing a clearer view of reality - the reasoning for your distance, your lack of lemonade kisses this summer.
So can I ask?
What was it about her? What about her lured you in?
Was it the way her hair dried into the perfect mermaid waves I have to use an iron to achieve? Or was it that her laugh was still girly - because she hadn’t spent the past five years allowing you to hear all the variations of her utterances?
Maybe you preferred the blue in her eyes over the green in mine. Could it have been that a brunette became boring?
Or maybe it was the way your hand fit snugly in the crevasses of her waist - a feeling you’d been ignorant to because I fail to meet that standard of physical beauty. Could it have been the light-heartedness of her voice when she used my nickname for you?
Or was it because she made your heart flutter in a way I was incapable of evoking?
Maybe it was the way she looked, our last night on vacation together - you know the time when you were there with me, and she was there with your best friend.
Or maybe... just maybe... it had nothing to do with me not being enough
But everything to do with your inability to recognize something - someone - so