I have spent three hours trying to articulate in my mind, to myself, how I feel at this moment.

The tears have been falling and haven't stopped, except for the occasional dry spell.  Then these thought bubbles resurface and I find my face wet yet again and my heart feeling heavier than the moment before.

Tonight, we went to see his family and friends for a birthday party.  I had a great time chatting with friends and seeing Tony's family.  As we drove home I told him what a great time I had, and he told me the same.

I didn't realize until later just how wonderful that made me feel--how special I felt, how loved I felt.  You never really realize those types of things until you feel otherwise.

When we got home, almost immediately he said he was going to another friends house for an hour or so.  My heart sank, but why?  It's just an hour, after all.

But he had been drinking, not a lot, but enough to make me worry.  I expressed how I felt, and of course, he got offended.  No one likes being told their too drunk to drive, I've noticed.


But there was something else, the thing that made me spill over in tears, but in that moment, I just couldn't put the words together--even to myself in my mind--as to why I felt so... hurt.

It was because the night was so wonderful... it hurt me to think that even though it was, it wasn't enough to just be with me tonight.  I wasn't enough.  I felt foolish for even thinking for a second that he would just want to be with me that night, that there wouldn't be some other need to fill, that I would have filled it.  I felt like all I wanted was to be enough, and I just wasn't.  I kept thinking of our anniversary night, and how I had to beg him not to go to his friends house.  I felt so pathetic and desperate, begging my boyfriend to stay with just me on the night of our anniversary.

So I didn't beg--I just couldn't feel that pathetic again.

He came back again after an hour, and I was still crying.  He was good to me--told me he loved me, made us a late night snack, poured me lemonade.  He asked me if I was OK, and I lied and said I was.  I wasn't, and I'm still not.  I still feel lower than low.  I still feel not good enough.

Will I ever feel good enough?