They say one who is not jealous is not in love.
But to be honest, insecure as I am, all my life I’ve been more jealous of my friends than my lovers. When jealousy does rear it’s ugly head, it’s most likely the cause of repeated provocation, and especially after I myself had been the object of jealous accusations by my other half.
I’m not really sure why.
Maybe it’s because before such accusations were made, the thought never really burdened my mind that much. I’m never casual, never unserious, and I don’t wish to be so even if I could (and I just can’t). Infidelity to me seems irrational, nonsensical. It’s like throwing away a pair of perfectly fitting shoes for a new pair that’s two sizes two small. Okay, it’s an unfitting analogy.
Point is, why waste something you fought so hard to find?