I feel really guilty about writing this, but sometimes I kind of hate you. Everything comes easy for you. Jobs, nice houses, pregnancy. Everything just falls into your lap, and it’s making me crazy.

I hate looking at your pictures of your perfect, happy family and your growing baby bump. I hate that every time you interview for a job you get it. I hate that you get everything you dreamed of. You don’t work for it, yet somehow it falls into your lap.

I love you, but I’m frustrated. It’s hard to be around you. It’ll be even harder when you have the baby. I don’t know what I’m going to do.