Enough Is Enough Book Novels & Stories

This life. And I wouldn’t change a single thing. Not one. Ever. For anything. This was enough. More than enough. This was everything.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

She simply stared at the disturbed earth covering Hazel's grave. "I'm tired. I'm tired of trying to fit into a life that was never built for me." The words came slowly, as though each one had to force its way out. "I'm tired of trying to be enough." I felt something tighten inside my chest, "You are enough." She laughed, "I don't want this anymore. I don't want to spend every day wondering whether I'm smart enough. Strong enough. Good enough. I don't want to stand beside someone who's always ten steps ahead of me."

I couldn't help but ask, "Why did you have to compare yourself to me?" That instantly set Rose off, and she snapped back aggressively, "Why couldn't I? Did I not have that right? You had everything and were better than me on all accounts! Did it make you feel good when you tossed aside the things you didn't want to me? "Do you have any idea that I always thought of myself as some sort of pitiful beggar whenever I accepted your things?" My fingers curled tighter around my phone. Pushing down the emotions surging through me, I said in bewilderment, "Since you minded it so much, you could've refused me, couldn't you?"

Dante said. "That this is enough," Elian said. "Not enough in the resigned sense. Enough in the sense of — the correct amount. The right size. The thing that is specifically and accurately sufficient." He looked at Dante. "The character spends the whole novel learning that enough is not a settling. It's a recognition. The most complete form of having something is knowing you have it." Dante looked at him across the evening table. "That's right," he said.

But once the question landed, the words came faster than she expected. She opened her notebook and wrote: For the girl I used to be— Who thought survival meant silence. And for every woman who believed her worth depended on being chosen. You are not hard to love. You are not hard to keep. You are already enough. —Sophia Grant When the first copy of her book arrived in the mail, she didn’t immediately open the packaging. She sat with it in her lap, fingers tracing the edges. It felt heavy—but not in a burdensome way. It felt full. Like something sacred had been sealed within its pages.

But eventually. And that was enough. *****

And maybe that was enough. End of Chapter One Hundred and Seventeen

He thought about five years and the practice and the intention in the ground and the library that had grown from it and was now receiving its first person on its first day in the honest and unhurried way of a building that knew what it was for. He thought: it is enough. He thought: it is more than enough. He thought: it is. End of Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Four

Of course, I used his wealth to surround myself with a new, younger crowd. You see, this was why it was important to be content. Contentment led to happiness. The End.

But even that grew hollow, like pressing fingers to an old scar. Finally I had enough and one Friday night, something inside me cracked. I didn’t want to waste away my good years, it would be unfair to myself and I was already as pathetic as any other trophy wife or maybe even more pathetic since am in a sexless marriage with a man am not sure is even straight or flesh and blood! Anyways there’s this saying that goes how much is enough??