Who was I to believe more than that?

Along the way, I made myself believe that in your eyes, I was different, special, loved and irreplaceable. But time and again, I was proved wrong. I can never be the same as them. I was not on par. It was clear. You enjoyed much more with them. I was the unknowing substitute, or so it felt. Probably by some form of unsaid requirement, you told me the things I wanted to hear, said the things that made me laugh. However much I try, I can never be that golden, prized triangle in the unseen hierarchy. I was only, still am and will  be second best. Who was I to believe more than that?