In every friendship, there are two types of people:
The first, in my case, is my best friend Bailey. With her orange hair and splattering of freckles, she stands out anywhere, in any crowd. Add to that her ability to pick up anything, a pencil, a guitar, a microphone, even a spatula and become instantly good at whatever it is she's attempting to do makes her formidable to approach. Give her a tube of mascara, a pallet of eyeshadow, and a three minute Youtube video tutorial and she'll have you ready for prom in less than five minutes.
Then there's me, the second type. I stumble over my own feet, my words, anything. While Bailey's painting masterpieces, I can barely write my name legibly. So nervous to fail that trying anything new is out of the question. I lack confidence where she oozes it out of every pore. Boys flock to her, and if I'm lucky, sometimes pause to ask me her name.
In essence, her genes trumped mine in every way. She was the sun, I was the moon who depended on her to reflect my own dim light.
I could never beat her in anything. School was the same, she was ranked #3, I was #47. Every where I turned she bested me, I could never escape the shadow of her achievements.
With my dark hair and eyes, you'd soon forget my face if you saw me passing by on the street. I blended in, she stood out.
That was the way of things.
People say opposites attract, and they're right. Being best friends with her is difficult, but I wouldn't trade our friendship for anything.
Some people are just meant to be there to make others reach their full potential.