Letter Three

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Dear Selene,

Good boyfriends help their
girlfriends with makeup.
Do you remember saying that?
Probably.
I don't see how you could forget it when that's how you introduced
me to Stella.

I remember you and your best friend Bronte were fretting over what to wear for homecoming.
What to do with your hair
and what style of makeup
would be suitable.
I remember the debate being juggled between innocent and slut.
You both finally settled for the innocent slut look.

I was fifteen years old when I found out that there even was
an innocent slut look.
Later on at the dance, I must admit,
you two wore the look quite well.

I saw all the heads turn.
I saw all the guys calculating your drop dead gorgeous looks
with their own chosen dates.
I saw the frowns and the disappointment and I remember chuckling at the sight.

None of them had turned a head at the pair of you in your
baggy sweats and messy hair.
But now, because you both looked like this, they were suddenly interested?
I remember snorting and leading the three of us to the dance floor.

No, none of them deserved
either of you.

I requested our favorite song and we recreated Sam and Patrick's living room routine.

That was a good night,
Selene,
and I thank you for that.

But let's rewind the clock
to much more complicated times.

Let's go back to your room,
messy and bright,
while you and Bronte
painted me to look like a cheap
New York City whore.

At first it was all fun and games.
Testing colors to see if they were as dark or as light as they appeared.
Through trial and error
we found out which products were still good and which one's
should be trashed.

I didn't care.
I let you both do whatever you liked.
Because that's what
a good boyfriend did.

When things got more serious, though, and you two started working out the perfect makeup look...

Well, that's when things changed.

The heavy blending and
the soft blushes.
The contours and
the rich bronzers.
Eyebrow pain be damned because
damn did they look like snatched twins after Bronte was
done shaping them.
Lip gloss versus lipstick.
Mascara and eyeliner.

I found Stella that day
and I learned a few things too.

I learned that Stella loved nude eyeshadow and light pink blush.
I learned that Stella loved being glazed in highlight and not bronzer.
I learned that Stella loved soft lipsticks and sticky lip gloss.
I learned that Stella had good eyebrows and didn't need to fill them in or shape them.
I learned that Stella preferred a light coat of mascara and no eyeliner.

I learned that Stella, like Samuel,
wished she had longer hair
to twirl around her finger.

I found Stella that day.
Bronte had jokingly named her so.
We three laughed at the "absurdity."

But deep inside,
I wondered more about
Stella and me.

You gave me Stella, Selene.
You both did.
Tell me, why was it,
you both felt the need to try and
take her away?

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