October 15, 2009
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He didn’t change his myspace password, and I just can’t help it.
I know her.
The girl he leaves messages for, telling her she’s pretty and “dang girl can I get your number”
I laughed ‘til I realized I knew her.
She would remember me if she heard my full name, and saw the picture my mother has of us; we were about 4 years old, sitting next to each other on her white couch.
My clearest memory I have of us is that her brother was always more nice to me than she was. He let me play with his Bop It when she wouldn’t share her floaties for the pool.
It was one of those friendships where our mothers were friends, and since we were the same age they had us play together. We never clicked though.
I just can’t believe what kind of person she is now.
Perhaps she would say the same thing about me if she was one day prying into her ex boyfriend’s email and saw that he was hitting on me.
That wouldn’t happen though.
See she is rich and a cheerleader and gets drunk every weekend.
I am the girl who beats up the cheerleaders, graffiti’s on buildings and drinks every day.
This is not a Taylor Swift song and is not Saving Jane lyrics.
I am not jealous. I am only surprised.
Neither one of us is better than the other, I realize that, and I have nothing against her.
If she hurts him I’ll break her face.
Until then I’ll just hope he doesn’t change his myspace password because I just can’t help it.

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Sarbear This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Mar. 30, 2010 at 6:39 pm
this is definately unique and ive never heard anything like it. great job!!
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