I envied you, and it was almost laughable that you didn't notice what you had. You were everything he wanted, and you still hated him. One of those cliché stories where the unnoticed, plain, snarky, for some odd reason smarter than everyone else girl hates the beautiful playboy who annoys the heck out of her, but unknowingly is madly in love with him and for all that time he was in love with her, that story was playing right in front of my eyes. Who am I? What role did I play in this whole ordeal was going on?

I'm the girl who tormented you, laughed at you and mocked you. I'm his fake, whiny girlfriend who hated you with everything in me. I'm that bleach blonde, blue eyed girl with the revealing clothes that disgusted you. I was your enemy. I'm the one with all looks but no brain. I only envied you, I was overrun with jealousy. I saw the way he looked at you, the way his gaze softened. His amusement when you got angry. How he smiled when you glared at him. Why couldn't he look at me that way? Why couldn't I be you?

All in all, I was just a toy; he never loved me like I loved him. Not that you would believe I had any feelings. But how would you feel if the one you loved was being stolen away from you? When you already claimed him, or he claimed you? How would you feel if he had fallen in love with someone else and that person just laughed at you when he left you for her? You wouldn't be happy, you would be enraged. I hated you, I had to admit, but only because you had everything I didn't. But most importantly, you had him.

He would have done anything for you, he was wrapped around your finger, and you didn't even notice. You had a boyfriend, one that cared for you, and yet he still wanted you for his own. I knew it was just a matter of time that you would fall for him, and then you'd live your happily ever after. Beauty meant nothing to him, even though you were very pretty. But you had the smarts too, and an attitude to match. You were his and he was yours.

But after he left me, neither of you had a second thought about how I felt, or even you boyfriend. Sure, you had your little guilt moment but then you saw him and everything disappeared. End of story, you were going to have to darling little children and live beside a lake in the countryside. Oh goody.

Just in case you didn't notice, I was being sarcastic. Because no matter what happened to you, my life would be the same story. I would be used, I would use, and then someone ended up getting broken. Beauty doesn't buy love, just desire. I was the girl every boy wanted, not loved. I hated it, and still do. I would never be taken seriously. Sure, it was mostly my fault, but even if I tried to change, no one would believe it. I'm sorry for what I did to you, it was just jealousy, I was young and conceited. I was dumb and cruel. But I have something to tell you.

Your life is a cliché and I'm still left with nothing.