Jealousy

Jealousy


Of all people, I thought to myself, he chooses her.

I look at my sister dangling on the arm of the boy with the kind, comforting face, the dark blue eyes that held me captive, the one who always knew how to make me happy. The one who, until today, seemed to feel what I so often feel burning in my chest, with uncontrollable desire.

Love.

Only now I see that he could have never felt that way, because there is my sister, leaning her head onto his chest, kissing the lips I so often dream about, the ones I wish to feel, her eyes alight with a sparkle that cannot be dimmed. Never has the feeling been stronger, the need to be with him. Melody, the obnoxious brat that I reluctantly admit is my sister, is the one he wants.

I want to have him hold me in my arms, feel the sweet caress of his hand on my cheek. I want to be his world, for him to be mine. To feel our lips brush, and then to look into those eyes, those bright, beautiful eyes as vast as the sea, and know that he will stay with me forever.

Then I look at Melody. I wish I could dim that sparkle in her eyes. I realize I hate her more than ever, just because Melody is the one he chose, and I am not.