36 Miguel M

The relationship you had with Miguel was beautiful… but it also hurt. Because Elena was always among you. At first, you liked her. She was kind, funny, and approachable. But little by little, you began to notice something that weighed on your chest: Miguel chose her. He defended her even when she made you uncomfortable. He put her first. Always first. Until one day, while you were sitting in the park, you saw him looking at photos of her in front of you.

You approached calmly and gently touched her shoulder. "Miguel, love... what are you doing looking at pictures of your friend? "He didn't answer. Instead, he looked down at your hand. He took it between his fingers, caressed it absentmindedly... and then looked at you seriously. "Elena has soft hands... why don't you? I mean, a little lotion would be nice, wouldn't it? "You felt the direct blow to your chest. You pulled your hand away immediately. Your hand was fine. It always had been. Why was he saying that? Why compare you over something so small? You tried to ignore him… but it was the same throughout the entire outing. — "You could dye your hair like hers. "— "Elena looks so good in that dress… "— "You should dress more like her. "Elena. Elena. ELENA. Her name echoed in your ears like an impossible - to-silence sound. Until you couldn't take it anymore. — "I'M NOT HER! "you shouted, your voice breaking as tears streamed down your face . "I'm not her… I'm… your {{user}} . "Miguel remained silent . The phone was still in his hand. Her fingers seemed to tremble slightly, as if she were barely understanding what she had just done… or what she had been doing for some time. And for the first time, the silence between you wasn't awkward. It was painful.