imprecation of envy

1.1K 63 38
                                    

january 14

jealousy is such an evil factor. it haunts my thoughts and the way i interact with the human beings around me.
i'm sitting— standing actually, beside tiana. 

two days after i met her she invited me to her house, three days after i met her we had lunch together, six days after i met her i stand next to her meeting her girlfriend.

her girlfriend; charlotte, charlotte hargrove has milky skin. charlotte has pink hair that matches tianas. charlotte has round green eyes. charlotte is curvy. charlotte is beautiful.

she looks at me and it strikes me in the chest. suddenly my ginger coiled hair is a mess compared to the silky straightness of hers. "you're really quiet, like a statue or something" her voice is like velvet.

"no, i'm not. — i'm not. i'm just listening" my tone is just a tad bit harsh. she just stares at me.

jealousy is an evil factor.

i look around the crowded room of sweaty bodies, leaving them without saying another word.

so many lights blind my eyes when i walk to the front door and as i walk out the house tiana texts me.

"really dude?" is what her message says.

i don't respond as i begin my walk to my destination. that destination is the bookstore, i would much rather be home, in bed but i've read every single book in my apartment ten times, and im getting pretty tired of them.

i've done too much this week, my thighs burn and my head bangs.

it is much past my bedtime.
-
when i arrive at the book store, it's 9pm and it's closed. i whisper "fuck" under my breath, but only just barely because i seem to be out of it.

i sit down on the curb and huff.

"im sorry— i could unlock it just for you," a voice says "but only for a couple of minutes."

i turn my head towards the door behind me. this person holds the key to the store but has no uniform on her body.

"you're okay" i mumble.

i take in her appearance.

short black hair, just to her shoulders, a round face yet deeply defined and id say her eyes were blue but i couldn't truly see.
"here, have this one" she hands me the book she must've just token "i don't know your preference but you look like you've walked all the way here. — don't want you to leave empty-handed."

i take the book even now i've read it a million times; the fault in our stars.

"thank you," i say as the girl nods her head.

we just sit there, staring, it's not awkward surprisingly but i feel heavily exposed as her eyes travel around my entire being.
"well um" she clears her throat, "did you have somebody to come get you? it's pretty late," she asks.

"what's your name" i disregard.

her face turns to a confused look, "billie?"

i nod, "no i can walk" i answer her question, watching her grimace as if she was scared for me. "no no— you shouldn't walk,"  billie says as she unlocks her car, which i see turn on in the parking spot just across from me.

"please," she says almost as if she knows i'll deny.

"okay."

getting into a car with a stranger dawn, how smart. when i get into her car it smells so good it's almost smothering.
"sorry for the mess" she mumbles even know there's not a piece of trash in sight.

i don't answer her, instead, i type my address into her GPS and listen to her hum the faint music playing on her radio.

billie is confident, even though i know not one thing about her. her demeanor is confident, the way she so casually turns the wheel of her car is confident.

i wonder if people look at me and think i'm confident, think i'm undeniably beautiful like charlotte hargrove.

to think these things are utterly hypocritical because i go on and on about never judging a book by its cover. how you should not guess a person's circumstances just because they are beautiful but here i am, thinking about how charlotte must have it easy, how billie must get anyone she wants.

this is so wrong of me because you can see so much of a person with your eyes. how pretty they are, successful, and outgoing, but you will not know much until you remove the rose-tinted glasses.
it can be hard, hesitant, but you cannot see the world truly, with all of the sugar coating.

i look over at billie, running my eyes over her; observing.

i run my eyes over her defined jawline and the piercing in her ears, the scar just at the start of her neck.
i look at her arms and how there muscly, she must work out.

"what do you see," she asked me abruptly seeming to catch my staring. "nothing— i can't read you," i say, she chuckles and turns her head only for a second "really? i am very easy to read."

i shake my head "you're not for me."

she just shrugs as she pulls in front of the apartment building, we sit for only a minute until i finally get out of her car.

"see you around stranger, and thank you," i say, she gives me a nod with a smile, "you're welcome pretty."

and then she drives off.
-
it's five am and i've finished two books i've already read. i've had yet to feed my body, my stomach growling as i ignore it and i cannot sleep.

my mind continues to trace back to tiana, charlotte, billie. i keep thinking about how the way i am and the way i want to be are two completely different things.

i wanted others to perceive me as someone you see and never forget. i want to be in the books. it's not so much as a romantic want, this is general.

i want my voice to be able to sound like velvet, red wine, like a summer breeze. i want to feel like soft wool and i want to look like the moon.

i'm jealous of all of the silky brown-haired girls and all of the green eye girls and especially the pinked checked girls.

pinked cheeked girls never sweat, they always look good, not a blemish in sight.

my mind follows the moment from earlier— when billie called me pretty.

i like the way she said it, the way she look straight in my eye with zero hesitance.

and even though she called me pretty i am still unbelievably jealous of her. i liked her face shape, her confidence especially.

she has something i do not. i hate that.

god, jealousy is such an evil factor, it kills me. it rips my brain into one, it pulls my heart out over and over until it is completely nothing.

1161 words

ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴘᴇʀɪꜱʜWhere stories live. Discover now