The price of envy

five minutes of stunned silence and confusion in both our eyes, the girl broke

could tell she was having a bad day too. Was it just a coincidence that two identical people were both having a rough day at the same time? Well, my mom believed in fate, b

as. I wished I could be more like her. "Umm, yeah, definitely. But let's not rush into anything. We should get to know each other first, don't you think?" I replied. At this point, I was ready to agree with whate

for a while, we just sat in silence, listening to the calming sounds of the water and taking in the serene atmosphere. Finally, I broke the silence. 'You seem really distressed, like you're having a bad day. What's wrong?' I asked. Tarrisa hesit

ck in a middle-class family without any social status just makes my life a living hell." Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, and my heart ached for her pain. I paused for a moment, unsure of how to respond. It was difficult to empathize with her situation because, from my perspective, she had ever

en our problems seemed so different. After all, it was the opposite of her worries that had brought me to this very place. I felt like a dog trying to teach a fish how to swim. This was harder than I had expected, and before I realized it, I found myself crying too. "You're being dramatic, Tarrisa," I thought to mysel

ore confused. I wasn't sure if I should tell her or not. Would I sound ungrateful or cringy? My brain cells were at war with each other. Maybe, if I told her, she'd open up more and w