She accused me of being jealous, and I glared at her with hateful eyes. She knew that my jealous was fuelled by my illness. Of course I was jealous; I’m not going to lie. What’s the point? She lives her day to day life not even considering what’s going to happen tomorrow, where I’m wondering if I’ll even make it to see tomorrows sun rise. She can get up in the morning and go to school, like its second nature, where I struggle lifting my head, because I know there going to be more strands of hair left on my pillow. She can have a relationship with the boy I’m in love with, knowing that I may never get to have our first kiss, because she’s in the way. She can have any boy in the world, and she chooses the one that I wished to have my last and first kiss with. She can live her life to the fullest. She can get married. She can have children. She can have a happily ever after…and I can’t…and she’s decided to take that away from me. Why…? I have no idea, but there’s no point in finding out. Why bother anymore? Why go through all that effort when I know that there’s never going to be an answer. Maybe it’s jealousy…?