Those plump lips were supposed to be mine. It should be me kissing them red and swollen, not him.

I could only watch, see her twirl, her skirts flying, around on the dance floor in his arms, her tinkling laugh- showing of her pearl white teeth- echoing in the room, like she was the only one there. For me, she is the only one.

Her beautiful turquoise eyes glimmered in the dim light from the chandeliers, happy and alive.

And as the song reached its end, he kissed her, my girl, and I fisted my hands under the table, trying to control the rage that rose within me.

When they broke apart, he led her to a table clothed with white linen and they seated themselves, him whispering something in her ear, making her laugh again. It should be me sitting there next to her, holding her delicate hand in mine.

The dress that she was wearing looked like it was made of the finest silk, the pure white color of the dress highlighting her already pale skin. It clung to her body like a second skin. She is, by far, the most beautiful girl in the room.

My hands wanted to reach out and touch her, feel her. I almost rose up from the chair, but regained control of my body, but my mind was still thinking about her, my eyes lingering on her elegant form as she sat there, so near, yet so far away.

The night was close to its end, and as they made their way out from the quaint room, and I could feel my heart breaking. Cheesy, but true.

It was like barbed wire wrapping itself around the beating organ, and a wheezing sound could be heard in his chest as it struggled to get its usual rhythm.

It should be me, walking with a goddess like her by my side, her head leaning against my shoulder. It should be me kissing her passionately, touching her hair gingerly; knowing she hated it when it got ruffled. It should’ve been me who was wearing the thin golden band ring around my ring finger, looking forward to forever.

---

Gillar inte, postar det ändå ;)