I know I'm not supposed to ––

You.
I know I'm not supposed to–
I'm supposed to trust
I'm supposed to know

But apart of being brave is being honest.
that when I see you, I'm still reminded
when I see you, I don't think:
O
there's hope for me
no
instead, I think:
ugh
another reminder of how little of the parts of life I actually want that I actually have
^^ the feelings aren't perfect; these words aren't either

The way we ended up;
the way you decided to be didn't help either.

You.
With your pretty hair, perfect smile, perfect skin
just more refined than when we both had crazy hair, khakis & polos & crushes on the same boy

it looks like you got the easy-breezy-beautiful
you got the guy; you got the baby
it feels like you got the fast track & I got the quick sand



You.
With your easy, no fuss beauty
just more of...something than when we were both the new girls from the Lone Star with cameras & dreams

it looks like you got the move, the education, the job
you got the guy; you got the connections; wanderlust fulfilled
it feels like you got the open doors & I got the slammed ones.

And I listened to you tell your stories of everything I imagined, but the story had your name on the cover and I was barely on one page.
My book feels like a long mismatched chapter with too many rewrites; too many characters and then too few

I know I'm not supposed to–
but, apart of being brave is being honest,
when I see you, I'm still reminded...