Her Memories

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  • Dedicated to Anyone Who Realized Their Mistake
                                    

I look back in time, only to find something that isn’t mine. It was a life so in fact, but the memories don’t match with mine. The person was always sweet and generous trying only to do good for those who had no other resort of happiness. They handled life like it was a bowl of soup; whether is was hot or cold, it still tasted good. Every situation she faced was always another glorious adventure in her eyes.

What about me, though? I am nothing like that. I don’t get raises in salary for helpfulness, promotions at work for achievement, or put others’ mental states before my own like her. I’m not the smartest or even the strongest, but I am just a normal person in this world.My personality is barely anything special, so most people look to me as just “that girl” or even “her”.

I don’t take it offensively, but I know deep inside that they all wish I was like her. She would solve their virtually unsolvable problems as well as pamper them with the compliments that they all deserve, that I could never conjure up. I don’t know how to say my recent thoughts and emotions in words, but I do envy her.

Even though I have more perks like an iPod, Facebook account, and an HD flat screen TV all to myself, I only long for the praise and image she has made for herself. I wish I could be her and not the boring old hag that can’t talk to people by any means of communication besides through technology. I can’t stand my job as a waitress anymore; making minimum wage with the occasional tip from the sincere person who sees the stress pour out of my eyes is too much. It haunts me thinking of the job I could have had, the one she had the chance of achieving.

Pity tips make me cry at night, till me face swells as big as if I got stung by a wasp. It does reflect my personality though, ugly and tortured with no hope of escape. I know it sounds harsh, but trust me, it’s true.

Her on the other hand, is as pretty as could be, both internally and externally. She has blonde curls naturally falling down to her shoulders, vibrant blue eyes piercing the eyes with love, lips as gentle as porcelain and limbs so thin and strong! She’s compared to an angel, but she couldn’t be, because she was human. She looks like the opposite of me. I have brunette hair, so straight it adds a crisp feeling to my look, gray eyes almost covered in a fog, chapped lips from numerous cups of coffee and limps so weak. I wish I was her, but I couldn’t be because I used to know her.

We were close friends, as close as can be, even closer than the once famed Olsen twins! I knew her secrets, while she knew mine like the the back of her hand. Life was amazing during our friendship, but it all came to an end that one day when we ventured into the real world.

That day is in my heart, and has been forever. I hate it with a passion, and I never stopped wishing that I could reverse time and change that day. We should never have departed from one another because she could still be by my side today. If only I hadn’t gone out to college and got a job, would I have stuck to my true identity, leaving me to be one with her.

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