Standing in the middle school lunch line, my eyes were lingering on the pretty girl ahead of me. In addition to the long lashes framing her clear green eyes, and the blonde hair perfectly framing her smooth skin, I noticed how at ease she was with herself – a quality unfamiliar to me, and I envied her.
I envied her looks, her friendships, and her freedom.
I was more ultra aware of a large pimple protruding from my cheek, and certain it contributed to the rejection I felt that day. And every day.
Reminders came again after school as I boarded the bus for the long ride home. Girls my age sat together, but I had no one.