her hair is like yours.
how do i explain to you that i'm replacing you with her, how do i convince you that she's worth it? how do i say, 'the way things were before wasn't real,' when at the time i was constantly convincing you it was?
the way it grows is like yours, anyway. she styles it sometimes...
i really did love you, or at least i thought i did, and isn't that all that really matters. if you are sure you're in love, doesn't that usually mean you are?
and hers is always neat. she brushes it and sometimes flips it out or lets it hang in her face. if your hair were grunge, hers would be emo pop.
that's the way i've always seen it. no one seems to agree with me though. "i thought i was in love" is the most common sentence that has never made much sense to me. but even now, i'm pretty sure i loved you. and i'm pretty sure that would make you my first love.
her eyes are like yours too, warm and accepting.
even if we got past the part where we don't admit to each other that we ever had anything very strong, but at the same time have to get over the fact that at least i have moved on, how am i supposed to gush to you about her?
yours always have that suspicious black glaze overlying them, and more often than not, they're dark and angry.
and don't tell me i'm not supposed to gush. you're my very best friend, you have been for as long as i can remember having friends, and i want to be able to tell you what makes me happy, just like i want you to be able to tell me.
hers aren't like that. hers trust me indefinitely, as far as i can see. probably way more trust than i deserve. and they're very rarely angry, and when they are, i can watch the black dissolve as she looks at me.
but maybe we can never do that. it's always been something our relationship has had trouble with - jealousy. maybe it will never get better.
you make me happy because i make you content. she makes me happy because i make her happy.
maybe we're falling apart and we should stop trying.
she's like a more human version of you.