There's not a lot on Sylvia, so I decided to try to give her some credit.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for the blondie.

It wasn't fair.

I'm not the smartest, and though I don't want to admit it, I'm not the prettiest. I wasn't the friendliest, and I'm by far not the most ladylike. Most of all, I'm not the one that he'll give his heart to. I'm Second-Best Sylvia, and it just isn't fair.

I don't want to, but I can't help it. I hate her a bit. She didn't do it on purpose. But Dallas still loves her. Not me.

He doesn't look at me the same way as he did her, even when we are at a good moment. When those blue eyes look in mine, my heart skips, but I know he doesn't see me. He's looking at me, just not seeing me. He's seeing into his past. He's remembering the little blonde that stole his heart and then stomped on it.

Blondie didn't mean to. She still could have helped it. She knew it couldn't last, so did Dallas. She had told the idiot she would go. And he still decided to keep her. He kept her around for a whole thirteen months. Not even one break up.

I remember when they had to finally put her in the hospital. It was a few weeks before I saw him again. That was when I found out she was no longer competition. Or so I had thought. I hoped he would get over her and it would be my turn.

I'm not heartless. She was a very nice girl. Pretty, the girl everyone loved. Especially Dallas. Dallas loved her to pieces. She worked at a diner that stayed busy, mostly because of her. I'd talked to her once or twice there. That's what makes me feel so bad about everything; she didn't treat me like everyone else did, as a slut. I was an actual person to her.

Dallas treated her like a queen. Anything Blondie wanted, she got. Anything I want? There's an argument. He doesn't want to admit it, but everyone knows that.

She was a little thing; just barely topped five foot. Dallas was a mountain in comparison. And when she smiled, it went from her lips to her cheeks, and then from her cheeks to her eyes. Following that smile would come a sweet laugh, one that had her tilt her head back ever so slightly. From her lips there was a voice that was smooth and calm, rising and falling as she spoke. No swear word ever came from it, and her lips never touched a bottle of alcohol or a cigarette.

What a pretty princess.

That's why I can't figure it out. Dallas has a mouth worse than a sailor, a taste for drinking, and a habit of smoking. He's brash and brooding. He's hot headed and violent. She was none of that.

Somehow they'd worked. If you'd seen them together, you would have been able to tell right away. They were in love and happy.

I don't think Dallas will ever love a girl again, not fully at least. He doesn't do love well, never has, and after her, it's highly unlikely. She proved his theories about caring right. Other girls may think he loves them, but they're just fooling themselves. No one else.

As for me, I'm giving up. Slowly. I'll find another guy, hook up, and then Dal and I will call it off. A few weeks, maybe a month or two, and we'll be back together.

One day I'll do something right though. One day I'll be the pretty perfect princess in a guy's life.