Becky would be so proud to know that I have scoured the entirety of the internet looking for answers to the question "How do you break someone's heart?"
So far, I've compiled a list containing varying answers from cheating on your partner to burning their house down and/or destroying their dreams of ever becoming a successful businessman.
Also, you must know that those three have been committed by one person in retaliation -- which is something I will aspire to do if I ever get cheated on.
But that's the problem, I have never been cheated on.
Not counting the times I have had my heart broken by my overbearing parents, then yes, I have not had my heart broken. My mommy and daddy issues are not a part of this list.
"I'm hoping you're working on your manuscript and not googling things like "How do you break someone's heart on Reddit, Samantha, "Becky's shrill voice almost knocked the bejeezus out of me. She came out of nowhere and just randomly knew exactly what I was doing. Was I too obvious?
I slammed my laptop closed and acted like I wasn't doing just that. "Of course, I'm writing my manuscript, Rebecca. You would be blown away once I'm done with it,"
"I do hope so, Samantha. So many writers wanted that place you're sitting on. I hope we're not wasting it on you."
There goes the gaslighting again.
I belong here. I knew it from the first time I watched Augusta Moore's debut feature film. She was one of the reasons I wanted to be a writer.
Augusta Moore was a 35-year-old nobody in Hollywood when all of a sudden, her movie "Doll" was picked up by The Pendulum. This was in the early '80s and she was the first woman to ever have a feature film produced by such a big production company. Doll was a story about a young woman with big dreams hoping to become a star in Los Angeles. Everybody knows that everyone in L.A. is in pursuit of the same dreams, but Doll refuses to be like everyone, in fact, Doll wants to become everyone.
As a child with little to no personality, I was fascinated by the confidence and power of the titular character.
I was so envious.
I was such a shy and quiet kid that it would take people quite some time to even notice I was in the room.
I've always wanted to be like Doll, but I was more of a raggedy doll than a Barbie doll.
My older sister Paige, bright and beautiful, is the doll that I could never become. I love her to death, but I never really want to be around her. Don't get me wrong, she's great, but I don't want to be around greatness so much, it makes me hate myself.
Paige Leigh is just light personified if I had to describe her. Every time she enters the room, it's like a spotlight is always pointed at her. She's beautiful, intelligent, and kind. She doesn't seem like a real person. A real person has flaws, but Paige doesn't seem to have one.
She is a journalist who covers the news for war-stricken places like Afghanistan and Syria. She was nominated for a Nobel prize for a piece she wrote in the New York Times on the experience she had endured when she was kidnapped in Kabul. After everything she had been through, she still seemed so in love with the world, and the world loved her back for it.
Why couldn't I be more like Doll? Like Paige?
Someone the world loves back.
I might sound like a bitch for envying my sister but that's just the truth about us. I am always going to be the background character especially when Paige is around. Don't get me wrong, I love my sister. But sometimes, I just want her gone.
When she moved to Africa to volunteer against poachers and created a gorilla sanctuary, my parents couldn't be any prouder! But her absence around the house had such a huge impact on my parents that they had doted on the only kid they had left--me. For the time being, I was the favorite, because I was the only one there. That had always been my life. People only notice me when they have no other choice.
This might sound so cynical and a bit psychotic but sometimes I wish Paige was dead.
Or I was.
What more is there to this world if I'll forever be in the shadows of my family with no way to ever escape it.
And be reminded of it every single day of my pathetic life but I guess I still had to feel lucky, right? I'm young, rich, and quite pretty, I must have the world in the palm of my hands, right?
"Hello, Earth to Sam!" Becky shouted interrupting my ungrateful monologue about my rich-girl-lacks-attention ramblings.
"Yes, Becky? Sorry I was thinking about something,"
"I hope you're thinking about your next article,"
"I definitely am," I lied.
"I want it on my desk by 5PM, Sam," she reminded.
I nodded. I have no choice but to submit whatever I can and all I have was that damned reddit search about breaking someone's heart.
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