Jealousy

Jealousy jeal·ousy (jel′əs ē)
noun
1. the quality or condition of being jealous
2. negative thoughts and feelings of insecurity, fear, and anxiety that occur when a person believes a valued relationship is being threatened by a rival

.. . . . .  .  .   .   .   .    .      .     I'm more mature than this. I'm just doing what human nature tells me to do. It's the gut inside of me that's making me paranoid. That irrational body part that feels like it's twice the weight it should be... and sinking down. Further and further. And further. And my heart that burns. But the flame is dying. I'm calming down. I've got to calm down. Be rational. I talk about Carson a lot, and he doesn't say anything. I don't care about Carson, not like that. Not at all. So I should just put myself in the same situation for him. God, I'm silly.

I really didn't want to post this, but I feel as though it should be out there. I didn't want to say it, because now he's going to react to my reaction, and then I'm going to react. He's going to be more mature than me. I'm calming down. I've lost that anger. That frustration. That inkling that I'm inadequate. I know better.

I hate being primal sometimes. Irrationality breeds jealousy. I know it's just a reaction that I have to have, but I hate having. I'm sure she's a wonderful person, but even without meeting her I know I have to dislike her. A sad fact that unfortunately the more savage, emotional part of me is eager to accept.

I love him. I love him so much and I didn't want to say this when he was having a recession of confidence. He needs to be confident. ...I wonder if he's looking at me and seeing what he might possibly turn into if he continues down his road? I hope I have enough control. I know he does. Humility is a strong chain.

Looking at the first sentence of that last paragraph. I say it so much. He says it so much.

I'm so afraid to think about our future. But I've got to be strong for him. It's hard to commit to something so daunting. We won't be able to see each other everyday next year. And then I think, will we be together next year? And then I stop thinking. Because I'm superstitious. Primal. Simple. I ask myself sometimes what life would be like with him. Just him. Only him.

It's scary.

But someone who sits next to me asked about him once. She saw us together. She asked if we were still together. I stared blankly and replied '------, we're going to marry each other. We love each other'.  She was so shocked. I suppose love is rare in high school. But I ask myself why I said that. Why did I say that? Did I mean it? That's quite a commitment. What if something happens? What if he changes? What if I change? What if because I say we'll be together, that automatically means we won't be together because... because... c'est la vie. 

But I don't care about that. I suppose I'm just scared about him, because I already know what I know. Or do I? I've never 'loved' before. I'm supposed to be a dumb, hormonal teenager who doesn't know anything about life, and whose life changes and who is completely out of control and who can't control her life even if it is her life and she wants to control it so badly and wants definition and certainty so badly. 

We fear what we do not know.

I don't know miss X. But that won't stop me. So let me be clear:

I love him.

I love him so much I'm angry about it. I'm angry at the people who think I can't love him, including myself. The future means nothing. The future is nothing. I can defeat the future, and going to separate colleges and different homes and different states and not being able to see each other every day. That means nothing. Nothing at fucking all. I am capable of love. I'm capable of staying with the person I love, and I am not a teenager. 

I will help him in times of need, like now. I'll lead him as best I can. I will invest everything I have into him because that's what I want so badly to be able to do. I've been waiting for a signal, a point in which I know that everything will be safe, but everything won't be safe. Life throws things at you that you can't deal with, but I'll deal with them. I will persevere. I will survive. I will love him. Confidence like this can be overwhelming, but I have to dive into it and keep myself from drowning. There's always that possibility, but my will is stronger than my fear. I will make it stronger. You can too. Humility in moderation. Confidence in moderation. Don't just revert. To either stance. Please. It's drilled into us that being humble is good, to leave your accomplishments unrecognized, to keep from acknowledging your happiness. Humility works for some things, but don't just revert. Don't be sad. I can't stand to see you be sad. You're so strong and so defined. You've defined yourself, you're still defining yourself.

     I love you.