I'm obsessed with her.
Obsessed with the way her hair is perfectly curled,
and how perfectly she does her makeup.
Obsessed with how she always looks good,
and how everything she does is effortless.
But I'm not obsessed with her in the way you may think.
It's not a love obsession,
but a jealousy obsession.
It's the constant obsession of comparing myself to her,
of trying to be her.
Because you chose her over me.
And I sometimes wonder,
if I looked a little more like her,
acted a little more like her.
Would you have chosen me instead?
~ E
