Sure, you’re good looking. Your favorite part about you? Probably your boobs – no wait, definitely your hair. You have perfect beach wave hair. Oh – and you can cook. Like really cook – like every time you make dinner it looks like it belongs in a foodie magazine.
And hey, you did get married first. You won the race. You paraded your stunning three carat diamond ring in front of all your single friends, had the tailored, imported wedding gown, the huge Four Seasons wedding, the high profile husband to match. And her?
She’s nothing like you. She’s breathtaking, in that effortless kind of way. She doesn’t have to wear makeup and she can eat whatever she wants and still be a size 2.
She has zero home training, hates kids, and has some serious balls. She doesn’t accept the currency of shit, not like anyone would offer her anything less than awestruck adoration.
And to top it all off, she’s not just beauty, she’s got brains too.
She’s your best friend. Has been for years. She was your Maid of Honor, organized an epic bachelorette party with a penis cake and all, and was the first person you called when he proposed. She helped you get through your miscarriage; she held your hand when you thought you couldn’t have children.
And she got you through it. But she got him through it too. Him – being your husband.
They text and talk all the time actually. Spend late nights together hanging out, playing Fifa Soccer and chess. They make a mess out of the kitchen trying to make grilled cheese sandwiches at 3 am. They do this at least 4 times a week. At least.
He tells her everything, and she tells him everything.
Everything. You want to be “that” girl, you know, the one who is secure enough to not let it get to you.
You’re not the “jealous” type. He is married to you after all. He still treats you like a princess. And she is still your best friend.
But it’s weird.
You ask your friends if this is “normal.” They all look away uncomfortably. No one wants to be the one to tell you it’s not “normal.” You don’t want to say anything, because acknowledging it makes it real. And you can’t go back – things will get even more strange.
Why can’t she just know her boundaries? She’s your best friend, she should just know.
You would never do the same to her. The truth is, if she was ugly and had bad breath, you wouldn’t care. But you do and it’s because she’s carefree and beautiful. She’s everything you’re not, and one day that might be exactly what he wants. Sure, you have options, some more honorable than others.
You could channel your inner Gossip Girl and sabotage their relationship like acne covered 13 year old. You could confront your best friend and hope that she’ll be true to you and stay away. But even that route has implications he would notice her taking a step back and you would have no choice but to acknowledge that you told her to back off.
You could talk to him, risk looking like a jealous and insecure wife, in hopes that he picks you over her. But you’re wise enough to know that would only lead to a confrontation with your best friend where she would very fairly drop the “I can’t believe you never told me. I thought we were closer than that.”
And then there’s always the simplest of them all: just hang out with them.
But the truth is she can’t cook like you. Her hair can get a bit frizzy. And she’s got the chest of a 14 year old pubescent boy.
The truth is, she’s not you. And she never will be. And he’s not with her.
He’s with you.
Because he picked you from the start.
You’re wise enough to know, in time, she too, will find someone, just like you did, and you’ll never have to clean up the remnants of grilled cheese sandwiches at 3 in the morning ever again.
