I am a young girl, with curly dark brown hair, long legs, a chest, and a tummy. I know that I'm nothing special, but I never used to mind that. I had friends that were all skinnier and prettier than me, but I met him before I met them. We were the terrible two, always causing trouble, always sneaking away from the other groups, always just goofing off and having fun. And somewhere along the way, I fell in love with him.

Most people think that there's a set age when you can fall in love, but that isn't true. You can fall in love anytime, anywhere, anyplace. So from then on, I tried to keep things normal, but I couldn't see that he knew I at least liked him. As we grew up, he would tell me who he liked, his problems, everything. And for awhile I thought that he love me too.

But then she came. She would start teasing me abut my weight, about my clothes, and everything in between. But, this time, he did nothing to stop it. He fell for her spell. And I hated it. I hated how she was prettier than me, I hated how she was skinnier than me, I hated how she was smarter than me, and I hated how she was so perfect. And I hated how he was on her side. He would start calling me names, fatso, idiot, unwanted, loner, emo girl, fatty, etc. But I couldn't hate him. I tried to, but I couldn't. So, I dealt with it. But then I found out she liked someone else. So I comforted him, and watched him fall in love over, and over, and over again. But not one time was it with me.

I know that I should be mad and envious, and I am, but all I want is for him to be happy, and I would do whatever it took to make him happy. Everyone told me to move on, to try and love someone else, but I've known him all of my life, and I've loved him for 8 years and counting, so it wouldn't matter how many times they tried to set me up with others, cause I was still ways away from recovery. In a way, I felt like his super hero. Always making him happy, saving him from the bad girls, but one difference was, I never got the guy.