What She Was

She was never the one who stole the attention of wandering eyes. She was never the one a man would stop dead in his tracks just to watch her walk. She was never the person who’s smile captured hearts and who’s eyes entered into tango with others. She was never the one to be chased, the one to be sought out, the one to be loved. No, she was the one who went seemingly unnoticed, falling behind an erected curtain of disguise, masked so vividly in her flaws that no one dared to look her way. She was always the second best, the afterthought, the tag-a-long. She was the one that, had she not been present, probably wouldn’t have been missed. She was the one that when she left, things could happen for everyone else. She was the one who was seldom missed and always avoided and never pursued. She was a shadow, living in the wake of her friends who she didn’t deserve to have. She was timid, and she was shy, and she was hollow, and she was begging for all of the neglect in the way she carried herself. So in the end, while she was all of these things, she was also the cause of her pain, and maybe that was the worst of it all.

[alc]