Life Doesn’t Always Turn Out That Way

He slips his hand in hers and he smiles happily at her. He’s happy and she’s happy, but I want nothing more than to melt into the floor and burn the very image from my mind.

I love the way he makes me laugh.

I love the way he slips in those little white lies because he’d rather not hurt my feelings.

I love the way he never forgets my birthday or any of the other holidays – including the one’s I’ve made up just so I can throw a party or get gifts.

I love the way he can reassure me even when I feel like the world is crashing around me.

I love his annoyingly messy hair, his squishy round body, and his ever caring warm smile.

I love him.

.

But he doesn’t love me.

Sometimes I want to hate him because of that.

.

I’m beautiful dammit!

.

Girls kill to look like me, from my flat smooth waist to my long lustrous blonde hair. Guys are supposed to be crawling over to fawn over me. I’m supposed to be the one who’s breaking hearts.

Not the one whose heart is breaking.