good enough

There's so much more to write than one stream of thought allows for.

This morning I told my mother that Archer and I broke up. She had called to make plans with me for Memorial Day weekend. She asked if I was ok; I am. Unhappy, but ok. She asked what happened. I didn't know how to put it into words. Not succinctly, and she was on her lunch break. No time for long stories.

I'm just not what he wants. He's not what I need. He's feeling used by everyone in his world except me, but he can't get rid of anyone else. There's no other way to lighten the load. I had become a burden to him, rather than a help. The man who said he needed me - needs me gone.

And somehow, there's relief in this new freedom.

I have stopped myself seven times already this morning, from wondering if Archer would appreciate this or that, or if he would approve, or if he would just politely say "that's great honey" while thinking I was hopelessly inadequate. I don't have to wonder anymore. I can cut my hair without worrying about whether he'll like the new look. I can wear a wife-beater (surely there must be a better name for those) with my girly jeans and pretty earrings and not worry about looking too masculine for him.

I no longer have to harbor guilt over not being the middle-class woman he's seeking. I can dress in my favorite 'hippy' clothes and not be made to feel like I'm dressing down.

I'm good enough on my own, where I failed within our love.

I can be his friend, without worrying about him leaving me over something I've said, which might have contradicted his perceptions and thus stung his defensive pride. I can simply speak truth to him, and not be frightened of his temper.

I am good enough.
I'm just not for him.