It is never simple. And it probably never will be. It is always about you and your greatness. Never about me and mine. You and your beauty. You and your talent. You and your “perfect boyfriend”. I can’t help but resent you. You were always put on a pedestal. You always had an excuse made for you. I had to put on a smile. I had to pretend. And I sit here now thinking, waiting, wishing that whatever is so great about you, could be transported to me. Just for a day, an hour, a second would suffice. I stare at your beauty watching as the subtle glow of your skin radiates through the room. Suddenly reality hits. The beautiful shades of yellow and gold dissipate and suddenly everything is distorted and overcome by scrofulous grays and blacks. If everyone only knew who you really are. What you really stand for. One day people will see. See right through your fake smile. Your fake tan, hair, nails, along with your fake pipsqueak voice. One day I will step out of your shadow and my silence will be broken. Till then I travel into the alabaster dawn. Wishing. Waiting. Praying.