Grass green.

She galavanted around the shared household, showing everyone what she had won. Woos and awes were heard from each corners of the living room while everyone of us stared and complimented her accomplishment.

I was happy for her, I needed to be happy for her. She was one of my best friends and sisters. Not being happy for her meant that I’m the bad friend and I couldn’t be bad because I was happy for her.

I smiled and even voiced out a little compliment about her winnings and tried to mean it as much as possibly could, but I noted the exact opposite.

She sat next to me and rambled on about how great she felt and that she’d like for us to celebrate that night but I just wanted to exit that space as quick as humanly plausible.

Why did I smile but all I felt was grass green with envy? Why did I wish she had nothing to ecstatic about? I WAS HAPPY FOR HER.