Dear person I’m jealous of,

I don’t really have one specific person I’m jealous of? There are multiple people with whom I have varying levels of minor jealousy though, so I guess I’ll just direct this toward them collectively.

I don’t hate you, I just hate the concept of you. You act as sort of a living breathing reminder of everything I feel I should be. I’ve always had trouble dealing with imperfection, from a young age I’ve been taught to “reach for perfection or nothing at all” and you’re the real tangible creatures reminding me what I NEED to be that I’m not. When you’re quiet and poised, it highlights how obnoxious and loud I am. When you’re small and meek like a fawn, it reminds me that I’m tall and cumbersome, mammoth in your eyes. When your hair is perfect and your makeup is on-point it reminds me of the straightener burns and the eyeliner smears and every damn pore on my face sprouting acne to contrast the pale canvas perfection of your skin.

I don’t hate you, but I’m not exactly fond of your existence. But yet I love you, because you’re so different from me yet you give me something for which I can strive to become.