The Worst Kind

I can only compare it to waking up in the Twilight Zone. I'm the only one who can see the truth. The way things should be. I should be the one holding her hand. She should giggle and go all red-faced when I send her a sweet text. The one she thinks about before she goes to bed at night. The passenger's seat in her little blue car should be just far back enough so I don't knock my knees against the glovebox whenever we take a drive together. My picture should be the wallpaper on the new smartphone she just bought because her old phone would turn off on its own. That's how it should be. But my best friend is the one standing where I should be standing. Visiting her on the weekends and making her breakfast and holding her hand and whispering "I love you" before she falls asleep, clutching so dearly to her as a drowning man would a raft. Needing her and making her feel safe.
It should have been me. But she doesn't love me. Not like that.
KCJAce87 KCJAce87
Jul 20, 2011