I’ve always been the friend of the heroines, the younger sister type. The very pretty, but overlooked advisor who is very emotionally secure. I watch my friends fall in love, and they assume that I, the contented, stable, one, wouldn’t be so careless as to fall in love myself. And so I assumed. Love was something for other people. One of those things that happened all the time...to someone else. It was something that would happen to me “someday” when my perfect man came, and then, we’d both be desperately happy and in love. Actually, I unconsciously considered love to be fictional. Deep down, I didn’t really believe in it.

So imagine my surprise when I found myself in love. But, he could not see that I loved him. I could hardly blame him; after all, I was the girl who didn’t fall in love. And so, if he ever cared, it soon grew old, and he began to fall in love with someone else. One of those girls who always needs a man to tell her how wonderful she is. Never mind what man, as long as he was handsome and flattering, she would fancy herself in love with him. One of those girls that I could never be, never even imagine being; so careless, so open, who blatantly displayed her affections and emotions. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be a girl like that; a girl who falls in and out of love so quickly, who grabs the attention of any man she chooses, and who has no real regard for the side kicks of life, like myself.

But I still loved him. Even though he never considered that I might even be capable of love. I tried to show him. To anyone who could identify a girl in love like I could (I’ve had a lot of experience), the signs where blatant. I adored him. But this girl; she outshone me. She won. And while I maintain my position of confidante, some day I want to take my stand in the world of love. Someday, when my love realizes that it’s not always the things that are most evident which are the most sincere.