Taming the Green-Eyed Monster

I admit that I used to let jealousy get the better of me. I would let it eat away at my insides and never tell anyone about it until, eventually, inevitably, it would come spewing to the fore. I would end up having a go at Mr P without any grounds or evidence, and when whatever was troubling me wasn’t really his fault. That’s one of the reasons I started this blog, so I could vent when I didn’t have my soothing girlfriends to hand, and sort things out in my own head without causing an argument.

I believe Mr P has an admirer. I believe he has many and this particular one I have suspected for some time now. She is an acquaintance of ours with a boyfriend herself, albeit a long-distance one. On Sunday night, I noticed that she was flirting harmlessly (if there is such a thing as harmless flirting. I am aware that I’m on my own for believing that there isn’t) with him but nothing was reciprocated. However, I suspect Mr P might also fancy her. Not enough to cheat on me, you understand, but enough to get my hackles up. I completely understand that nothing would happen between them (I don’t think either of them would do anything to hurt me, to be honest) but I need to know how to get past caring that people fancy my fiance. Mr P takes it as a compliment when someone eyes /chats me up. He recognises that there isn’t a problem, that I’ll be going home with him and that I’m wearing his ring on the third finger of my left hand.

I wish I could be cool like this. Be cool in that of course other girls will fancy Mr P; he’s amazingly handsome, affable, funny, charming. He’s a catch but he’s my catch. I think, as a woman, and a neurotic one at that, that there will always be a little niggle at the back of mind, wondering what if he happened to fancy someone more than he fancies me and decided to go for it.

I get that these thoughts are completely self-destructive and won’t do me any good at all if I let them fester away inside but even just writing a short post about them has helped some. I just need to take several deep breath and chill the fuck out.

This entry was posted in Cue Carrie-Bradshaw-Typing-In-Hotpants Moment, Love 'n' Stuff, The Hairier Sex (usually) and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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