I've always been too much.
Too loud, too messy, too fat, just altogether too much.
So why wasn't I enough for you?
You said you loved how much I was. You saw how I loved too much and much too hard.
You saw how I hated myself just enough to let you in.
You saw everything, and instead of helping, you used everything you saw against me.
I was too much for others.
But I was supposed to be just enough for you.
You told me every day how I wasn't enough. How I would never be enough.
But I know I am enough. Especially without you.
I might not be enough for you, or anyone else.
But I am exactly enough for me.
And you don't get to take that from me anymore.