I am the ugly friend.
I'm funny, smart, and kind;
I get along with people, too.
I'm the one that has all the guy friends;
I'm the one who's shoulder you cry on;
I'm even the one who giggles with you over how cute someone is.
Deep down, though, I'm torn.
I've always known I was the ugly duckling.
I mean, it's obvious when we're together.
If we're in a group of three and we bump into a guy,
he looks at the other two and his eyes
jump right over me.
I get it, though. Can't really blame them.
You're standing there, thin and flattering with your
perfect hair, beautiful makeup, and amazing smile.
I'm standing next to you, heavy and shorter
with hair that sticks up when I want it flat
and goes flat when I want it up.
It doesn't hurt as much as it used to, but it still does.
I hide it well enough, don't you think?
I shrug it off, ignore it, and pretend it never happened.
What's funny is that he starts talking to me because we connect.
I like video games and lots of things men generally love, and he likes that,
but I'm not pretty enough to go any further.
Remember that one time when you dragged me to a party?
I had homework to do that night, but you still insisted I go.
Because I loved you, I went with.
You towed me along, introducing me to people you knew,
but I could always see that they were looking at you and not me.
Some attractive men would come and talk to me, and I thought they would be interested.
All they did was use me to get closer to you.
It didn't hurt as much as it used to, and I didn't realize it until I got home,
so I didn't cry in front of everyone.
You didn't notice.
You were busy flirting with three people at once, and I'm happy for you, but...
Why can't that ever happen to me?
I forgave you, though. I was happy for you,
Even though I was a bit peeved.
Remember when you took me to the school game?
Gosh, that was fun for you.
It was for me as well, I admit, but not for the same reasons.
I went to go talk to the 'Band Nerds' while you went off with some 'Jock'.
It was homecoming night, and you wanted me to stay for the dance,
but I said no.
The former party was still fresh in my mind.
I knew almost everyone, and I hung out with a few other friends,
but then you decided to introduce me to people in another crowd.
I never liked them.
They're too loud, too much, too alien, too perfect.
Of course, I made them laugh until they couldn't breathe.
That's what I'm here for.
I made friends with all of them.
They're all really nice, once you get past the
weird lingo of those in a higher circle than you.
After half an hour with them, I realized you were gone, and I went looking for you.
You were in the bathroom, making out with some guy;
I think his name was Jake or something.
He was the one I thought was really cute, too.
I forgave you, though. I was happy for you, but it hurt.
Remember the amusement park?
The rides, the adrenaline, the summer heat, even the sound of falling
water brings back that memory.
There was a really long line for the best ride, and we waited.
You were your beautiful self: long legs, long hair, tall, athletic, and perfect makeup
I was myself as well: hoodie, long pants, chubby, ache-covered face that didn't
have makeup. I wasn't there to please anyone,
I was there to have fun.
There was a couple in men in front of us, and you hit up with them immediately.
I listened, of course, but they didn't notice me.
They were looking at your chest, per usual.
I stayed silent. I knew the drill.
Just wait until it's over and you're alone.
Then you can go on with life.
By the time we got to the front of the line, you already had their phone numbers.
I was forced to pass the time listening to music instead of spending time with you,
which was why I asked you to come, right?
I forgave you, though. I was happy for you.
It hurt even worse this time, though.
Remember when things started to change?
I sure do.
I met this man who called me 'Pretty'.
He called me 'Special', and I think he meant it, too.
I was head-over-heels for him.
Here was the first person not to just think of me as an add-on to you
Here was the first person who saw me as a woman, and not just
a sister.
Here was the first person who actually took some interest with me.
He asked me to a school dance - I don't even remember which one,
and I eagerly said yes.
You were so happy for me, and were encouraging me to stay with him.
'You and him sound perfect! I knew you would find someone!'
That night, I dressed up, and I even put makeup on.
It felt funny, but I thought I looked alright.
My face was practically glowing with how excited I was;
my eyes were the brightest.
He came and picked me up, and we went to the dance.
Remember when things came crashing down?
I try not to.
We were at the dance, and I introduced you to him.
You had only known him through me, at that point.
I never thought anything of it. Friends introduce friends all the time,
right?
An hour passed, and it was in full swing; everyone was talking,
and the music was blaring.
You and him were gone in a flash of light,
like magic.
I started looking for you two, and my heart started sinking.
Somehow, I already knew what was going to happen.
By the time I rounded the corner to an empty hallway, I could feel it
swinging at my toes.
I could hear the both of you.
You were drunk; someone brought alcohol along for the hell of it and spread it around. It's highs school, so why not?
There were strange repetitive sounds coming from the girl's bathroom.
I walked in and opened a stall from a distance, using my shoe.
I didn't know what to think when I saw the two of you
with no clothes on, having sex.
When you saw me after a moment, you stood up and stumbled to me,
trying to apologise to me, tell me to leave, and ask if I wanted to join in, all at the same time.
I couldn't breathe, so I ran away.
How could I forgive you this time? You went too far.
Remember how I cried?
I'm still doing it.
Another friend of mine and his girlfriend drove me home out of pity.
I told them I wanted to stay, tried to run away, but they forced me into the car.
They both didn't know what to say. The girl sat next to me in the back
while he drove.
They both tried to say something to me, but after a while, they gave up.
It didn't matter. I couldn't hear them, anyways.
My mind was blank, and the hurt made me mute.
Tears were running down my face, smudging my semi-perfect makeup.
After a while, we made it home, and they
asked me what happened.
My face contorted, and I suddenly burst into angry sobs and said how much I
hated you,
how angry I was at you,
how you tore me apart,
how I should have seen this coming,
how someone could be as stupid as me,
how would I ever look her in the eye ever again,
how could this happen,
how come I was the ugly one,
how come no one meant it when they said I was 'Special',
how I just wanted to sink into the ground and die...
... It went on for almost half an hour.
Finally, they took me inside my house.
My mother looked at me with pity - she knew the feeling well,
but she said nothing.
She knew to wait.
Her boyfriend, on the other hand, knew nothing.
She was forced to hold him back, shaking her head no.
My friends, who seemed at that point to be the only ones that cared,
helped me out of my dress and into a pair of sweats and a tank top.
After that, they told me to get better, and then they left.
Nothing else could be said
Would I ever be able to forgive you?
Remember how depressed I was?
I'm still suffering from it.
The dance was on a Friday, so for the entire weekend,
I was bed-ridden. My feet never touched the ground.
No food passed through my mouth.
I just lay there while tears soaked into the pillowcase.
I wouldn't tell my mother what happened.
What happened then... I didn't want to relive it.
On Sunday, the phone rang, and Mum's boyfriend answered it.
He brought it to me, saying it was my friend.
I held it up to my ear and made a noise to show I was there.
It was you.
You had forgotten about what happened, and were ranting on about a new boyfriend.
Trying to sound interested, I asked who it was;
my voice sounded horse from the lack of speaking.
You said it was him.
You were dating the one that I wanted from the very beginning.
I hung up.
What else was I to do, listen to you talk about how amazing he was?
Honey, I knew that before he met you.
You still wanted to be friends.
I don't think you even understood what you did.
Then again, it always revolved around you.
You took the only person who saw me as a woman, and not a side-kick.
Why should I forgive you?