Dear Person of Interest,
You know I’m not particularly fond of pedestrians. They are these funny, in a bad way, kind of people who walk about on streets and sidewalks, and they go when they shouldn’t and they drive real slow in the narrow passages of the skyway, where you can’t pass them because of oncoming “other” pedestrians. And are you a pedestrian only when you are outside, and crossing a street, or can you be a pedestrian in a crowded hallway, or in the bike only path? I mean don’t you only become a pedestrian when you get in the way of someone who is a hurry to get to their destination, whether they are on foot, or bike, or are in their car, and you are the cause of what they consider an unnecessary yielding to your way?
And I find it a bit maddening, that if today, I decided to put “find some money” on my “to do” list, that I could look under my chair cushion, on the floorboards of my car, on the sidewalk, and in the lawn, and even at the bottom of the pen holder, and I would find a penny or two, or three. However, I will not find the money I desire to find (and that would be most helpful) such as a fat wad of bundled together 20’s. Damn those conveniently located pennies for taking over the “Here I am! Money!,” world. I feel if they got out of the way, that perhaps dollar bills could fill the void. Although there was one time that I had parked in the parking garage for overnight parking which was going to cost my $5 dollars, and at the time of leaving work to head to my car, I realized I had forgotten my wallet at home and therefore, had nothing to pay for the parking of my car. I then happened to look to my left at a shelf un-thought of at work, and there was, five $1 dollar bills on the shelf. Well I figured that if I were to ask around as to who it belonged too, and went to hand it back, but then asked “Do you by any chance have $5 dollars I can borrow to pay for my parking?” they couldn’t lie to me and say no, cuz then I would hide the money between my fingers and make it look like I did a magic trick and made their money disappear, so I lent myself the money.
And one time, I found $500 dollars in a room I had to clean at my place of work at that time. And no, it was not left as a tip. It was left in an envelope where just the teeny tiny bit of the corner of the envelope was sticking out from a tray the coffee maker sat upon. When the money finally was turned over to me after the rightful owner never came forward, well; that was about the time that I started adding the additional caramel drizzle to my Starbucks morning chai tea, for an additional 60 cents. Disposable income is amazing.
And normally I am not the traffic controller.
Well let discuss what is enough. He says “I just want to hear you say to me “You are enough for me.” To which in my head I reply, enough, is similar to the word “snuff,” which implies, putting out and smashing violently to quit a process. So I say, well what is enough? Why is enough a comforting lullaby to his ears? If you are pouring me a glass of milk or dishing me up a plate of garlic mashed potatoes and you say “tell me when it’s enough,” I feel very comfortable saying, “Ok, that’s enough,” and I am quite satisfied at the result of the just the right amount of potatoes and milk to eat and drink. But in a relationship, being just the right amount of stuff is not good enough. I want you to be my everything, (but not my car, or my mom, or my job, or my walk about the park.) I want you to exceed my expectations, to disappoint from time to time, to hug me tight on a perfectly good day, to sext me when I’m feeling down, and to surprise me with a witty comment or goofy face to make me laugh every single day! But never will you get me to say with perfect harmony in my voice “You are enough.” And this I am glad about.