Born to Lead.

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Dear Alice,

I was there when you received your first bicycle. You and your best friend had nagged your parents to buy you the same ones at the same store as your Christmas presents. You were happy and laughing when the two of you cycled around the neighborhood. Soon you were joined by others.

I never got one, because my father was in between jobs and they couldn't afford it.

Once again I was left on the sideline. By now I was getting used to it.
I sat on the front porch and watched you go by. You seemed to be the leader of that little pack, deciding on which route to take and when.

I saw you fall off, getting back on, crying when you hurt yourself. You looked so cute with your sticking plasters on your knees and elbows, but you loved it, and I loved that you loved it.

Then he joined your group. Jake was handsome and had a better bicycle than all of you. He forced himself into a leading position. The two of you fought a lot, but I saw how your eyes lit up when he was around and how down you looked when he was not.

For the first time in my life, I, the scrawny, socially awkward, pimply-faced invisible one felt the pangs of jealousy.

And I hated myself for it.

Leo Alexander

~°~

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