She wore shoes that stood out in any room while mine were just flat. Too make matters worse she glided on the dance floor as if she was walking on the clouds. The envy I was feeling was burning all the way to my feet and this was difficult in the midst of a snow storm. Yet when she took off her shoes I understood why I would or should never fit in them. For the reason she walked with such gentle steps was because what was under her shoes was painful to even look at. Her feet were mangled in such a way that only those shoes would fit her and that I should be grateful for the one’s that I wore. Sometimes what seems so bright on the outside is full of much pain in the inside.