I was jealous of your life when the web that tangled around me gave me just enough room for my prying eyes to see you smile. It was a careless smile which you could give out at whim, without any throwbacks that would haunt you every time your head hit the pillow, causing reckless figments of things trying to be forgotten rise to the surface. I watched you there, sitting at the table with a smile on your face and it would rip me. We were rivals, of the deadliest kind; one wanted to kill whilst the other was trying to be killed. We were rivals, without much of a cause because if we look now on our situation its easy to see there was always something there, between us. Bed sheets, perfect bed sheets we were, with another body between us and another reason to be pulled apart from each other when the sun rose, when everybody saw us. Expecting a fight, they all gave us the bait to hate each other and it is rather much a farce that we did so.

I say I was jealous of your life and I mean it; you always had the path in front of you which you knew you were to follow even if age stopped you from knowing it. I always lived my life covered in dark robes, to young to understand the abuse, the abusing and the abuser. You could raise your glass to your friends, and toast their lives, toast your life because there was never a moment where it seemed you were in the dark, and I still am jealous of that because the past affects my future and when there is nothing light, to guide you through all those times you don't know whether you can breathe in dust or cut yourself on plastic, its hard to find your way in the dark.

You were perfect and I hated that, and what's worse is you had a vibes of tragedy, laced with good looks and indifference rolling off you whilst I sat back and was adored for much of the same reasons, but in a different light. I think, if I am honest that you go much deeper that what everyone made you out to be and all this perfection you portrayed goes so much deeper than the flawless skin, the vibrant eyes and the good nothings you never did.

I was always there, and what hurts is that I could only stand beside you and watch as it fell apart. The war broke out around us; what where we to do? Suck it up: one of us ran, the other one stayed behind and fought and conquered. One of us is neither prettier than the start of a line leading to the perfect life, and the other is as enigmatic as a pack of peanuts that won't open, but what I found outstanding about us is that were to half's of the same thing, yet you are lit from my light, and I am bleached out from yours. You shine, and you were there and now you're here beside me.

All those years, they left me in doubt about myself because I could watch plastic people do plastic plays, with you as their lead and you could work it. You were free, because you knew the rules of the game; you knew the lines that were to be spoken and you always fitted your cue with taste and dignity and there I was, suspended in the middle of it all whilst waiting for the perfect answer to a perfect question I didn't know how to answer with the gusto you could just present, with a flick of a wand or the sharp edge of the tongue you used to shout the world down with.

But, is that still you in there? Because it doesn't really seem so. I'm not so jealous, nor so exasperated by the fact you just are. I want you desperately to not matter, and in my quest to fill my own denial I have succeeded in forgetting the things that could, and want, to make me love you. Denial is such a funny thing, because it comes on so many plastic levels and in so many neon colours. Your green, I'm dirty brown and yet we go together but don't match. I'm negative, your postitive, I'm taught and your learning and why does it feel like were in this together now? The longer I suppress my feelings for you, the more I realise the truth lies in the one statement that serves as a fact: I'm loosing my love for you, and I am succeeding in suppressing my desire to give you the one thing you really deserve.

But were laying on this sofa today, drinking coffee. You had whimpered my name again because of something trivial like forgetting how to shave. I taught you these things, I had spent many moments keeping you up to scratch with what you should already know by default but why do you keep on forgetting. I want to ask, but your wickedly unbalanced demeanour shuts me down on my race to find out what happened to you.

I look at you, and you have your eyes closed against the falling sun, that's fast disappearing from the sky we lay under. There is someone, still in there, that I cannot wait to discover; but curious cannot be an option when the truth would undo all my work to stop loving you. For now, as you stop breathing heavily and I realise your finally asleep in my arms once again, I will stay content with the knowledge that I was once so jealous. For now… for now I am comfortable with you in my arms and my consummated lover, Calix, upstairs waiting for me.

Dearest readers,

It has been a long time, but I won't flood you with reasons as to why. A lot has happened to me, and the muses that I had for this particular piece of work have long left. However, some seem to have returned, so lets rejoice! I have a piece of original writing that goes to this piece, if anyone may be so interested to read it, let me know in your reviews.

Ashes, with love and honesty, from the brightest of neon Of Stars in the sky.