In the end, it was never about her, but me. Nobody stopped me from dancing – but she danced so well, all eyes drawn to her swaying hips and joyous expression, I gradually began to sit down more and just watch. I felt as though I was doing the right thing in joining others in their adoration, and ignored the small niggle saying otherwise, dismissing it as selfishness. The microphone always passed to me as well on the family karaoke nights, but she sang so well, with time I thought it best to just pass the mic along so that everyone could take pleasure in her voice for that much longer. That high school summer when we both qualified for the temp job in the library, I backed out of the interview so she could claim it, and told myself it was fine – she needed the experience.
And then, when I first realised I was in love with him, everyone I knew encouraged me to tell him – it was me who held off from doing so. And it was my decision to not confide my feelings to my own beloved sister.
So now, as I watch them walk back down the aisle together, hand in hand, why does my smile feel frozen and my heart feel so bitter?
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Bit of character exploration for a story I am working on. Not an excerpt, just an exploration of a protagonist’s thoughts.
A related piece, which may end up an excerpt, can be found here.
Thanks for stopping by 🙂
Ro x