For being a rather emotional person, there is one feeling that I’m not overly familiar with. Jealousy. It’s really never been a part of me, and it’s something I’ve never really understood when other people express. I’ve been envious before, sure. Seeing hot guys who are so pretty that it literally hurts to look at them. Everyone with a Mini Cooper. People over Five Five. People who can pay all their bills, still buy great clothes and go on vacations. But, it is only a, “Huh, that must be nice. I’d like to experience that someday.” No sooner has it entered my mind than it is gone. I don’t dwell on it. I don’t feel any resentment or animosity, nothing. I would never wish I could have what they had if it meant that they could not. Until now…
At first it was Chad’s friends getting married. I don’t wish them any ill, and I hope they have a wonderful wedding and that their marriage is magical. However, I am so jealous. I want what they have so badly, and I can’t help but feel resentful. And angry. Not at them, but at him. At me. At life.
Then, today, via damned FaceBook, I discovered that one of my acquaintance friends just got signed on with a publisher and has a release date for his gay trilogy books. Granted, if I could go back and have the life I had with him and have him choose to stay with me and spend our lives together, I would give up the writing fantasy in a heartbeat. However, if I can’t have one, I should at least get the other. Yes, we can say entitled. I know it. So, for the second time in two days, I am jealous. I really don’t ever recall feeling feelings like these before. I don’t like them.
I often feel stupid for dreaming big. Thinking that he’d continue to love me. Thinking that I’ll be a published author. But, obviously, other people dream big and it works. So, when does it become stupid?