Good Enough

I am so tired, I'm so tired I cannot feel anything but. As if those three days had consumed the entire supply of joy for the next three waking weeks. It is tiring, it is bloody tiring. Not being able to get ahold of myself, and everything seems to be not good enough. It's never good enough but you were more than good enough. And I want more than good enough. It gets harder to breathe, almost literally, when a little too often the memories of you strikes back, follows with a clotted blood stream right in the middle of your chest; even though it lasts only for two good seconds, but I can feel it - right there. It is real, it is not myth or a made-up story. I want to make it go away but instead every corner of this city reminds me of you, then it hit again. What bugs me the most, is you are more than good enough. I thought you weren't. Hence nothing, no one, can be just good or good enough because now I want more than good enough. Not even the Atlantic ocean by the New York skyline, it has lost its appeal once you stand near. And how can you expect me to swim when your current is too strong? At least you could have warned me. And now I am drowned and tired to fight back. I have been staying up most of the nights, counting the stars just because I can get busy thinking what comes after 771, and eventually I can close my eyes without wondering all the what ifs of us that has dissolve into oxygen. I just want to take a rest for wanting everything to be good enough. It's confusing. Gravity is starting to revolve around you - and I am falling. And I'm falling alone.