Discovery

"Her, the pretty one."
They'd say.
She didn't have to hear to understand.
Once inseparable.
For years, they couldn't be wrecked.
But they grew up.
The one thing that tore them apart was envy.
She cried,
"Why me?",
over and over again.
Like begging for a miracle that she knew was impossible,
Like praying to something,
anything,
a god she didn't believe in,
just praying, wishing that she might be granted with something,
something desirable.
"I don't have to be beautiful," she whispered "I just want to be wanted."
She shouldn't be pitying herself, she knew. She was only a mere 14 years of age, she had nothing to worry about. How did she know what love was anyways? She didn't, she didn't even know what she wanted.
She lived this way for years.
Letting envy tear apart her friendships.
Until, one day, on her death bed, she realized, she didn't need to be beautiful, she didn't need to have a tiny waist, she didn't need to have a clear face.
The only thing she needed was confidence.
She lived her whole life trying to figure out how to be like everyone else,
when she only needed to be herself.
"Her, the confident one,"
They'd say.