Jealousy.

I’ve been needing to write this for months. But I have to do it now. I need to get it out. I need you to understand.

Basically, it’s my problem. Sure, I have thousands of things wrong with me, I’m nowhere near perfect. But somehow, you see something that no-one else does. You see past the imperfections to get to me. All of the imperfections except that one. Jealousy. “The most unattractive quality for a person to have”, as you said. I agree. It makes things ugly. I’m constantly tense, waiting for a reason to be able to cut you down. Waiting to pounce the second it feels like someone else is more important than me. Some people would say I’m just ‘high-maintenance’. But no, it’s not that. It’s jealousy that eats me up inside. Whenever I’m down and I say to you that it’s because I’m scared of losing you in the future, that’s not entirely the truth. The truth is more that I’m scared that, if we end up in different places, you’ll make friends – of course you will – but there’ll be people that you’re close to, and you’ll get closer to. They’ll have more of you than I’ll have. And none of this has anything to do with me not trusting you. Because I do, I trust you 1,000,000%…I trust you with my life, and more than I’ve ever trusted anyone before and ever will again. It’s to do with wanting you. Needing you. I hate it when someone else so much as hugs you because it’s as though, for those few seconds, they’re holding my entire world in their arms. My world should be in my arms. I fall apart without it. And when you talk about the things you do with other people, I try so hard, so hard to keep the bubbling cauldron of venom within me. But it hurts. If I suppress it, it builds up like volcanic lava, ready for some catastrophic eruption that would surely destroy everything. So I let it out. Those sharp, accusative poisonous words like daggers being thrown against you. It’s as though it’s my way of trying to make you feel the pain that I feel. It’s wholly unfair. But life’s a bitch. And it seems like I am too.

After all this, it may sound like I’m taking a passive role with this whole thing. Like I’m just accepting the fact that I get jealous and hoping that you’ll deal with it. But I don’t want this to carry on. I want it to stop. I want you to help me, I want to help me. I don’t want to live with this “green-eyed monster” gnawing away at my heart and brain any longer.

Please understand. I need you. I want you. I love you.

“…fear of rivalry,…”

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