She's not fat, she just has more flesh than me. This gave her some sort of authority to bully me and scream, she wasn't abusive at first, not till someone made a snide comment about how I'm pretty and she's not, even I was hurt.
In my eyes, she's the sun, she's the epitome of Romeo's words. A Shakespearean goddess, Aphrodite without Greece... Her beauty, exquisite as it is, was never enough.
I cry night after night, from her laughter and her words, called me a stick figure, a model for trees and whatnot. I miss my best friend, but now I know she's gone.
What's left is a monster, not even a spawn of a death god.
She reminds me of the Jotun, she's turned my world to Jotunheim, soon my heart will become Nifleheim, a frozen land of ice.
She hates me because I'm skinny, I love her because she's not.
And when she talks she says the words "Skinny girls don't cry, because there's nothing there to shed."
But I whisper, distraught... "even skinny girls cry too. "