Why I am not like her?

They don’t tell me anything in particular but I always think, is she pretty? because I’m not.

Is she more beautiful? because I’m not.

They said it’s nothing like that. Still why, did I feel sad?

She was the closest one to me but I wasn’t to her. Not only I was always terrified by the comparison but was sad for her not loving me the way I loved her.

She was more intelligent maybe that’s why, I asked several times but instead was told, “ nothing like that applies”.

I know that she makes everyone in the room laugh and I can make everybody sulk. But at least, tell me that.

I never understood why they never wanted me to understand yet I always ended up hurting.

I know, no one means harm to me. Not even her, but then, why can’t I shake this feeling of her always being superior to me?

You both started learning things at the same time, you are the older one, then why aren’t you like her? Did they tell me that? No, but I always felt that way.

She is smarter, but you always acted dumb. She has stronger bones, and yours? they can crack anytime even if you just come out of your trunk with a speed of just more than an ant.

You both learned to drive together. She drives like any second she can be on the F1 track and, you? don’t even take that car out of the parking lot.

What is wrong with me? I often ask. She is not perfect, that’s what she and others tell me, but why don’t I believe it then?

What is this obsession I have with her, I don’t understand? I am the person with the least interest in things. I leave things in between the way even before they start properly.

I am the person in any kind of relationship to give more love than deserved. I am the giver. But I don’t understand, when did I become a taker?

Why do I need the happiness that she deserves? Can’t I have my own happiness? Why it is so hard for me to choose something else once they choose something for her and not me. Why do I always think that I am the second one?

Why can’t I be the priority for everyone out there, not comparing us still making a hollow pit in my stomach and a hole in my heart?

P.S. — Some stories can’t have al perfect tales. They are just there because you couldn’t take them to the top. Please do judge me for comparing because I want to feel something more than inferiority in myself and complex from the world.