906 words
w: it's fucked up and it's inspired by some personal shit that i'm going thru, i mention some psycho shit
italics are lyrics
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Retweets.
Likes.
Reacts.
Shares.
Views.
Reblogs.
Followers.
Those are the main ingredients for relapsing in our insecurities. Those things make us drown in jealousy and anger. We claim that we're happy for other people, but it's hard to be happy for them if they get the things that YOU want. It feels unfair and it feels like being happy for them is rubbing salt in the wound.
We all have our winning moments, but sometimes we feel like our own winning moments aren't enough to make us happy. So, when will we finally be happy? When we get a million followers? When we get a million likes, reblogs, and retweets? A billion views until it goes viral? Billions of shares until the app crashes? Truth is, we don't know. We don't know until we get there.
You knew that it was unhealthy for you to be jealous of some girl, but you were supposed to be in her place. The title of being Tom's girlfriend is supposed to be and is rightfully yours. Somehow, everything became fucked up and Tom ended up with some other girl who clearly wasn't you. You can't help but feel as if the universe sabotaged you when in reality, Tom just met her and after a few dates, they're now going steady. The universe had nothing to do with it.
Everyday, you keep refreshing her Instagram profile just to see if she posted a new picture or video or an Instagram story. You knew you shouldn't do that, but you couldn't help it. You wanted to be happy for Tom, but he was supposed to be happy with you.
She was perfect. She had perfect teeth, perfect sense of style, perfect hair, she's basically Little Miss Perfect and it's actually sickening to think about it constantly. Deep down you knew you were just as pretty and just as perfect because fuck society and their standards, but you can't let your thoughts go. You were sick of being yourself because you were convinced that you weren't fun or interesting. You wanted to be her and it became an obsession.
You would always compare yourself to her and you would think about her often. Whenever you pick out an outfit, you'd always ask yourself if it's something she'd wear. If the answer is no, you'd put the outfit back and look for another one. It was so unhealthy and everyone was worried about you. Tom didn't know that this was going on, but everyone else noticed how weird you were being whenever Tom and his girlfriend were around.
"She went to Brazil with her friends recently. Tell them, babe!" Tom excitedly nudged her before she told her amazing vacation story. You wanted to roll your eyes, but you didn't want everyone to see that. She was talking about the vintage clothes she bought there and her phone was passed around for everyone to see her photos in Brazil. Admittedly, you thought you were crazy for thinking these things. You should be happy for her and Tom, but it was difficult.
They say we shouldn't bring down someone during their winning season because we don't know how much they lost in their losing season. As much as you believed in that, you can't help but feel that her win is your loss. Even though it's not true, you still thought that way. You were tearing yourself apart over someone who wanted to be your friend, but your jealousy was hindering you from doing so.
You wanted to be her so bad that you swore to yourself that if you were a psycho, you'd probably wear her skin just to be her for at least a day. The only thing stopping you from doing so is the fact that you're not a psycho and you're a good person. Technically, you were capable of skinning someone alive and wearing their skin, but you choose not to listen to the call of the void. It would wreck you if you did.
It's karaoke night and everyone was there. To get this off your chest, you decided to sing 'jealousy, jealousy' by Olivia Rodrigo. When you sang the bridge, you meant every word. Only Harry seemed to catch on as he listened intently.
All your friends are so cool, you go out every night
In your daddy's nice car, yeah you're livin' the life
Go a pretty face, a pretty boyfriend, too
I wanna be you so bad and I don't even know you
All I see is what I should be
Happier, prettier, jealousy, jealousy
All I see is what I should be
I'm losin' it, all I get's jealousy, jealousy
When the song was over, everyone clapped and told you that you sounded really good. "Wow, I didn't know you could sing like that, Y/N! You sound really good." She smiled brightly at you. "I'm jealous. I wish I could sing like you."
You wanted to tell her that you were jealous of her too because she got the man of your dreams, but you took the compliment because for once in your life, someone you're jealous of is jealous of YOU. That's so fucking rare and it doesn't happen to everyone. For once in your life, you had the upper hand and it made you happy. Genuinely happy. In this round, you were finally better than her.
You stared at her and grinned, "Thanks."
