On jealousy

Jealousy is a funny concept. Usually, it strikes when you least expect it. With friends. With acquaintances. The people you genuinely care about. You’re happy for them. But you’re also completely flabbergasted, taken aback because, well, they have something you want.

And when it happens, it’s hard to explain.

It’s a foreign concept to me, really, because I’ve lived life for what it is, something I learned early in my college career – to take life and do with it what you can, and if you’re left with something less than savory, work it out on your own. We can’t change life. We can only lead it in the right direction, hoping that we’ll find the right path and be delivered to whatever dream life we’ve conjured up for ourselves.

So when jealousy springs up – regardless of whether it’s well-founded or completely silly – it’s hard for me to deal with.

It’s empty. It’s disingenuous.

I do feel happy. This is exciting. I keep telling myself this, and I believe it completely.

But jealousy is still there. And it won’t go away. Because really, I revert to a completely irrelevant childhood feeling of “want” and “need.” It’s harmless, but it’s still there.

And I hate it.

So figure that out. Figure out how I can be completely happy for everyone I know, yet still be completely bewildered, jealous and feeling out of the loop.