Always second best, in whatever I do and whatever I touch. And all the little things add up until I wish I could just break free. I don't know why I expect him to understand, especially when I say nothing as if my silence should have been the first hint. Yes, I am upset and angry but he'll never know because this silence hides well.

Always second best, not because I'm not good enough but because there will always be something of more importance that I fall behind.