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“He used to think that he wanted to be good, he wanted to be kind, he wanted to be brave and wise, but it was all pretty difficult. He wanted to be loved, too, if he could fit it in.” -F. Scott Fitzgerald

It's you I reach for in the middle of the night, as my hand catches your wrist and you turn to me with mascara covered eyes. I realized then that you are the same girl you've always been.

Except this girl has shown she is far more broken then she let on.

You always hated yourself, I could tell, I was always a vulture for spotting the weak. You thought you were fat, you flipped through magazines that were covered in willowy girls. Models that jobs included starving themselves until they were skin and bones.

It was all of our faults for letting you down. You lived in a world that was obsessed with physical beauty. Especially me. I wasn't a stranger for chasing the type of girls that had knobby knees and clavicles that could cut ice.

We all watched as you shrunk to a size that didn't reflect who you were. In fact, you were raised in the way that everyone paid more attention to you just because you became the fucked up norm.

They say that when someone changes their outer appearance their attitude morphs into the same category, but not you. You stayed the weak, unconfident little girl that stared at every girl she found more superior.

I had let you down and you found love with my brother in an unconventional way. I couldn't let you go.

Not now anyway.

We fell in love because of beauty. I had it and she was obsessed with obtaining it.

I know this story sounds super confusing right now but I swear it gets better. But with that being said it will be happier and lighter than my others stories. Enjoy! This is the third time I've re-uploaded this story, it will be staying for good.

©2017, thirteen13blue

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