Enough-enough

I just don’t get it.

I really don’t.

I try to make sense of it, but it just doesn’t.

I try to look for the sense of it in mossy cracks, in small holes in the ground, in alleyways, underneath rocks, or maybe even by the dumpster, tucked away in some oil-stained plastic container or a crumpled paper bag.

Because I simply don’t get it.

Why would it stare me in the face—out in the open for me to see? Why is it walking towards me and not away? It usually walks away.

No, it always does.

So why is this one not?

I don’t get it.

I know people might be drawn to interesting things, but that’s just that. Interesting.

Interesting enough, but not enough-enough.

So I’ve always thought I’d find it in hidden places. That I have to look for it, crawl, and not blink. But this… in front of me, looking, stealing glances, staring, smiling, nodding… I don’t get it.

It feels unfamiliar—foreign, even.

It makes me feel unsure, doubtful, unsafe…

Seen, heard…

Vulnerable.

I panic.

I need it to leave. I need it to know I’m just interesting enough and definitely not enough-enough. I need it to realize that ‘interesting enough’ will only be interesting to a certain point—and that… that feels… just not enough-enough!

So I better do the right thing and walk the other way.

Walk through dark streets, shut some doors, maybe throw a rock? Burn that bridge, maybe even bury myself at this point.

Because maybe—hopefully—in its pursuit to follow me, it would bump into someone enough-enough… and finally stop.

Only then I can breathe again, knowing that enough-enough will always be better than just interesting enough.