This Is Enough

I could feel the taut body beneath me, and his steady, rhythmic breathing. Even though he was fast asleep, his arms still locked tightly around me. My hands rested gently on his hip, my head on his chest, my feeling in bliss.

"You'll find love," they said. "You deserve love," they insist. "Just don't be alone for too long," they told me. But what is love? Do I really need it? Am I really going to risk my sanity once again? What's wrong with being alone?

 

There were times when it was the only thing I ever wanted in life. I wanted to be loved. I wanted to be a special person to someone. I wanted a person who wants me, and only me. I wanted the butterfly in my stomach and the happily ever after.

I got what I wanted, along with the added psychological thriller and the dark, twisted comedy. Princess fairytale with a twist, so to speak. I've been there. It was maddening, it was beautiful, it was beyond perfect, right to the surprising end.

And I don't want to do that again. 

To confess love or affection towards me is akin to entering a contest for the princess' hand in old knight's tales. If you do not succeed or you are doing it halfheartedly, heads will roll. I will not accept anything less. 

Am I really worth the trouble? I don't know. Then again, it's not about how others feel about me, but about how I feel about myself. If nobody thinks I'm worth it, it's fine. I love my life right now and I have so many things to be grateful and happy about.

There were times when these words sound hollow and empty, when it was a poor excuse to hide the loneliness inside. There were times where sex is the only way I can get human contacts that I was craving for, the little bit of attention I so desperately wanted. 

Yet the world is not that scary anymore. Life has beaten me with an aluminum bat and I came back with an even bigger gun. This is the first time I feel whole, the first time I can look the world (and life) in the eyes and say with a smirk, 'Come at me, bro'.

He stirred in his sleep and hold me closer. The movie was still playing on the tv. I snuggled cozily. 

I know I am not completely healed. I know a single word of love and/or affection could send me reeling back into hopeless misery. The doubt, the distrust, the fear, the painful memory, these all will turn me into a savage monster and may God have mercy for anyone who happened to be there.

"There is someone out there who deserved you," my best friend said. "Well let him wait. Or lose my number. I am not interested," I replied with a wink. "You know you want it. You know it will make you happy. I want you to be happy," my best friend argued. I shrugged.

Maybe I want love after all. Maybe I still want my happily ever after. Maybe, when I am not broken anymore. Who knows, I might be un-broken again one of these days. I used to be so scared of life and world, and here I am living it to the fullest. And that's all that matter right now.

The voices are not always silent, though. A part of me gnarled ferociously at the thought of I'm not the only current lover he has. Yet a different part of me, the part that's busy planning all the board gaming, swing dancing, and doing other shenanigans was like, "That's perfect. Our social schedule is PACKED."

And she is right. It's not that I don't need love. It's that I am loving myself right now.

When the movie ended, I woke him up, call an Uber, and kissed him goodbye. As I stepped outside I was greeted by the nippy Los Angeles chill. It didn't bother me, as my body was still warm from the warmth of his body. I waved my Uber and walked with a smile. I am content. This is enough.