Why am I not enough

He laughs at E1 asking why she wasn’t (isn’t) enough.  I feel like saying to her – do 4 years of it and then you get to ask.

He “shut down the harem” – and now there are 6 women – not including me – that he divides his time with.  So no change – no genuine shift to becoming less sex focused, less focused on immediate gratification.

Want to know what it feels like to be not enough – when he says things like “now it’s you and only you” in the same week where he slept with three women.  “Now there’s just you” – when he’s texting 6 other people (B, E1, E2, K2 and 2 new tinder pick ups which he hasn’t really discussed with me yet, but has been happily texting after we fuck.)…

Ok.

I don’t ask why – I accept that he is the way he is.  I know I am not enough for him.

Don’t need the question when you already know the answer.

But it is cruel to say that he’s going to spend less time and energy trying to have a new girl every night and now there are more than there was when the “harem” was in order.  It is cruel to say “it’s only you” when he’s fucked two other people and you have to ask nicely if he wouldn’t mind changing the sheets please, because they smell wrong.

I cry every day.  Little pockets of intense sadness.   Mostly in the car.  Mostly just before work when I realise that I’ll be the third or fourth on his list of people he’s said good morning to.

Then I put the mask back on and I smile and nod and find other things to do in the gaps where he’s talking to them and not me.

E1 – you want to know why you’re not enough – no one is.  And there are moments like this where I want to say have him – see if you can have success where I cannot.  See if you can speak where I stay mute.

There isn’t just me.  That’s a pipe dream.

He says “anything for you” – but it isn’t. He’s neatly positioned me so that the things I actually want I’ll never ask for because I can’t – it isn’t the “deal”.

I take a book to read now, so he can chat to them and I have something to do other than sitting and waiting like a rube.

I love him.  He hurts my heart.  I am becoming more and more ready for the next girl.  The next new thing.  The next “sure ok, I’ll go find something else to do”… the words are script now.  I have them memorised… “good for you…”

I’m not inspired.  I don’t feel special.  I feel known and that’s lovely.  But I do the work.  I make the plans.  I drive.  I do all of it.  For the pleasure of his company.

Right now, I don’t want to stay tomorrow.  But I will.  Because he says he wants me to.  So I’ll stay and bare witness to him talking to other people.  Yay… Multitasking is great.  I feel soooo good to be part of a multi tasked event.  Just another face in the list.  One more notification.  Not first girl.  Not in the way that needs to be meaningful for me.

Little pockets of grief.  Of mourning.  Of this is what my life is now – hanging out for a tiny moment of feeling good…. a crumb of recognition – something.

mute.

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