Story: It Just Wasn't Enough.

Author: M. Reis AKA Crazywriter, crazywriter@corporatedirtbag.com

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Non-graphic f/f relationship, some naughty words but that's it.

Author's note: Another vignette, I know, I should be working on Edge of oblivion but I don't feel like it. Emotions running high for me today, this'll show that much at least. Read and review.

It Just Wasn't Enough.

Once in a lifetime, you meet someone who makes you change. Not because you're a bad person but because she just does. And she claims she doesn't care about things, like your reputation and the person you used to be.

And she'll make you think. Make you feel. Grab you by the collar, throw you to the floor and make you understand.

And you'll believe her, like I believed her, because I thought she was perfect, down to every fiber in her body and that nothing could go wrong, because when it comes to relationships, I though I had the law of averages on my side. Kept telling yourself, fuck, one of these has to work out.

And all my friends all gushed about what a cute couple we made and that made me happy, especially the word couple, even though part of me was always thinking it's too good to be true. And then, Sweet Jesus, a girl's actually introducing me to her parents?

And it's all too much, just too much. It's so much that I don't even know it's happening except that after it does I'm fighting it, tooth and nail. Because I fell too hard, too quickly, so fast I couldn't even get the guards I trained myself to have up. Because I didn't know it was happening.

I was prepared for all sorts of new things, monogamy, fidelity, having dinner on Sundays with her parents but I wasn't ready for this, not this. Because it means everything I knew was a lie. Everything I believed in wasn't true.

And even though everything she made me believed turned out not to be true, it doesn't make it hurt any less that I was wrong, everything I thought was just plain wrong.

But I didn't think about this, not when she was in my arms. I was too busy thinking, how the hell did I, of all the six billion people on this Earth, get so lucky?

Luck. She claimed luck had nothing to do with it. But it did, it does. I never believed in much, sure, maybe God once in a while, but love, fate, destiny, these things… they were trivial, I was too busy for them.

She used to tell me that, come to think of it. She… she made me believe. Believe in things like God, love, fate. In her, in me. In just about everything imaginable.

I went through a time, that when I was with you, I didn't think I was human before you. You made me human, vulnerable, scared, and… just plain human. See because before you, I was numb, I couldn't feel. I tried to use girls, use them to make myself feel something. No, just to make myself feel.

Because for the hours I was in their beds, or car, or dark corner of the dancefloor or bar, they wanted, no, more importantly, they needed me. The was the was the important part, being need, not just wanted.

But none of that was supposed to be important with her. She promised, swore, that all that mattered was me, her, here, now.

And it didn't matter… because nothing mattered when she was in my arms at night, nothing. All that mattered was for this one, brief moment in time, I had her. Not vice versa, not she had me. I had her and she was everything I wanted.

A dream come true, the geek I was in high school finally landing the girl I lusted after in high schools. Because she finally saw me as more than just her favorite queer buddy, hiding up in the tech booth, designing her lights and blocking out the world.

But when I got out, got out of that high school, high school was poison for me, real poison because I could never be who I was, you don't come out in some conservative Catholic high school, though you toy with the idea. But when I got out, she saw me for who I was, the rogue going from girl to girl, wandering aimlessly, not wanting any of them.

There are so many things I'm going to miss about her, you know. Things I never envisioned having to miss. I almost wish she hadn't shown them to me, because if you never had something, you can't miss it. How can you?

But I got to touch them.

I got the sweet surrender in her eyes as I made love the first time in my life, not mechanical fucking like I was used to. Sunday dinner at home with her family, God, I even miss her little brothers. I miss the emotions being almost tangible.

But the tangent is broken now.

Because I told her I loved her.

We were laying on her couch, spoon style I think they call it, and I knew, it was now or never, I had to tell her. "I love you," I whispered in her ear.

Her whole body stiffened and she jumped off the couch. "Get out," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Kim," I protested, "What's wrong?"

"Just. Get. Out," she repeated louder, finding her voice.

"Kimber, what is this? Are you breaking up with me because I love you?" I asked, shocked, bewildered because this… this wasn't suppose to happen. Not with her.

"Don't say that!" she yelled.

"Not saying it doesn't make it any less true. Can we talk about this at least?"

"It's not suppose to be you!"

"What?"

"You're not supposed to love me, okay?" she said, her voice cracking.

"Why the hell not?" I asked, getting angry myself now. I always had a temper, you know, never could just sit there and take it.

"Because… I can't love you," she said, so soft, it made me want to reach over and draw her into my arms, telling her everything would be okay.

But it's not, thing is with Kimber is she's stubborn and when she makes up her mind, that's it. If she didn't want to love me then, it wasn't gonna change.

"Why the hell not?" I repeated, actually screaming this time.

"Because… because you're not my type!" she yelled back and I flinched. That was it, wasn't it? That was always it!

"Oh, so I was just good to fuck around with?" I shot back.

"Yeah," she said softer, "Actually that's it. We had fun, Dagmar, but you're not the type of person you think of forever with… you're just not relationship material."

And a thousand tiny little knives rip into my very being and tear at my soul.

"You're right," I told her finally, swallowing hard. "You know what, Kimber angel? You're absolutely right." And she flinched when I called her angel, she actually flinched. Because she can't bear to hear it, not from me.

"I'm sorry, Dagmar, I thought you knew it was just, you know, a fling. Like we both said it would be."

I laughed bitterly; "A fling? Yeah, yeah… I knew. Sorry… I let my heart get control of my head." I pointed at the door, "I… I should go now, you know?" She didn't say anything, not even good-bye as I shuffled over to the door.

This is all so very new to me, you know, being on this end. So's the feeling in my stomach that I've done something wrong, or failed, or… something.

I'm used to breaking up with girls at the first sign of the "L-word" you know. Or tossing it around like a hockey puck at the Stanley Cup until I get bored with them. Because you're right, I'm not relationship material.

I loved you but sometimes…

Well, it's just not enough.

We're stubborn and stupid and… stupid and stubborn.

And so I go home, already five messages from her on the answering machine. The last one was good, made me laugh, "Dagmar, damn you, don't shut me out."

I had to go, I had to get out of that big, empty house, because it was poison, just plain poison. Showed up at the old schoolyard, you know, we were in grade school together a few years, she went somewhere for junior high, but then we were in high school together.

I step in the sea of wood chips and sulking, I swung forlornly in a swing thinking of her.

I'm broken.

Because I've just broken up with my girlfriend, who never really felt like she was my girlfriend.

Because it just wasn't enough.

I kick a woodchip and cry.