The map is molested with marks of all the places we tried to make our love work
When my Being began suffocating you in our 500 sq ft apartment,
we thought a two bedroom townhouse in the concrete confines of the financial district would be enough
space to assuage the wolf inside you longing to lone.
When that wasn’t enough, we tried two buildings.
One for office, one for home. Ostensibly together, but with two separate addresses.
We thought one place for dwelling and one for thinking would be enough
to calm the raging fire protecting your heart.
When that wasn’t enough we flew south,
where the promise of sun and cloudless skies breathed hope into our little love’s lungs.
We thought the heat would be enough
to melt the ice hardening in your eyes.
When the sun wasn’t enough to heal like our fantasy promised, I flew to another continent.
We thought 1000 miles of coast between us would be enough
To remind us why we started. Let him miss you, they told me.
When the desperate separateness of two separate continents
wasn’t enough to reunite us
like I never thought it would,
we finally capitulated to having two separate lives.
Would another move have been enough? Another perfect permutation of distance to heal the distance between our hearts?
We’ll never know
Enough was never enough