The other girl.
For some reason I've always been 'the other girl'.
I was in love, with a man. But I never told him how I felt so we were best friends for around two years before I confessed. Throughout that time he had a multitude of girlfriends. The one who remained the most was a tall blonde model. She was gorgeous to the eyes of everyone, the 'trophie wife' as it were. She was the kind of girl every man wanted and every girl wanted to be. I wished I was her. Maybe I was just jealous of her confidence, jealous of the male attention she received. But I was mainly jealous of the fact she had the person I wanted.
