If it weren’t for the fact that you are completely miserable,
I would be quite jealous and envious,
But because your money cannot buy your happiness,
I am not nearly as affected by your ever-presence—

Though having your name arise in the majority of conversations
Is annoying, your pedestal is lowered
By this ongoing self-pity, which has prevented you from retaining
What it seems you cherish most…

Or maybe you have just had an unlucky run…
And in turn I have lucked out, because if I had these stories—
Of your wealth, career, and random quirks—
And you were happy on top of it all,
I’d slowly be destroying myself in your shadow
And even more resentful than I already am…

But because you wallow in your money, work too hard, and are alone,
I rise above you despite the facts,
And I am happy, unlike you, at least for a little while…
Until you are next mentioned and bring me down again

But I guess it would be rude if I didn’t thank you
For all of the charitable contributions—
The clothes, loans, and secondhand goods (boyfriend included)—
So thank you, ever present one, and maybe someday
I can forget you long enough
And it will be then that I can finally stop resenting you.