She looks beautiful in that dress

Of course she does. I see it now, her beautiful red hair, her porcelain white skin.

I'm not jealous; it just reminds me of what I could've had.

What I did have before it was snatched away from me.

He's looking at her like she's the most beautiful girl in the world. America Singer, soon to be America Schreave. And I'm happy for them, I really am. I want Maxon to be happy, to have what he deserves – even if that means he marries someone else.

She's coming closer now and she looks my way. I smile hoping the sadness doesn't show in my eyes. I suppose I must look a little sad, all the Selection girls do. But none of them got as close as I did. None of them experienced what it was like to actually think they were going to marry Maxon.

But I did.

I thought he loved me. I know I mean something to him; he was willing to spend the rest of his life with me. I must be important to him.

I cherish the moments we had together. The stolen kisses. When he told me I was beautiful. The way his eyes lit up when I told him I loved him. And I still do.

How could I not love him?

Yes, I didn't intend to let him close to me at first but as time grew on that changed. He was so sweet, so understanding. We had a connection that I couldn't imagine he could have with anyone else. Of course I was wrong.

For I see now, as they make their vows, that it was always going to be America. The ways her eyes light up when he enters the room, like he's the only one that matters. She's drawn to him like a magnet even though she tries to hide it. Looking back, America always seemed to catch Maxon's attention much more easily than the rest of us; she was never nervous around him, not even in the beginning. I used to be so jealous of her confidence; I never seemed to be able to speak to Maxon properly until I was chosen for the Elite.

When there were barely any of us left was when I truly started to see America as competition. She would make an excellent princess. Her melodic voice, her carefree nature, her ability to say what she thinks without becoming embarrassed, everything about her is regal even if she doesn't notice it.

The party that we planned together for the foreign guests was mainly her ideas. She shines so brightly, I must have looked dull in comparison. No wonder Maxon fell in love with her instead.

But I can't help thinking; wouldn't I have made a good princess? I tried so hard and Maxon was always telling me how sweet and charming I was. I thought that if I could be the best version of myself, Maxon would see the princess in me and fall in love. And I think that with time he might have. We would've been together and I could've had the happy ever after that I wanted so dearly.

And now they're kissing, and I'm applauding them with everyone else a smile plastered on my face but I feel empty inside. Like a part of me that had been there for such a long time has been ripped away.

When Maxon told me he was going to marry me, this was the wedding I'd dreamed of. The beautiful white gown, the gorgeous flowers in pinks and reds and most importantly the handsome groom in a black suit.

It's all so perfect. But I'm not the bride.

They look so happy together, I wouldn't dream of taking that away from them. But I'll always be thinking what if?

I suppose I'll learn to love someone else eventually and the pain of losing Maxon will lessen slightly. But I'll never forget. He was my first love and for that reason I will never truly stop loving him.

Maxon will stay in touch, if not through America, then because he'll want us to stay friends. And that's enough for me but I know that he will soon forget the small space of time when he was going to marry me instead. Eventually our love will be a distant memory for him, overshadowed by his beautiful wife and the happy memories he'll create with her.

And I will remain the runner up of the Selection and the memory of me will fade into nothingness.

Like I never even existed.