For many men and women, jealousy is the utmost proof point of love. The good part is — it comes from passion. The danger is — it’s an ugly emotion that hurts.
Jealousy is a disease on love. It is that monster that slays love under the pretense of keeping it alive.
The immature reads a wrong notion of jealousy and love – their neurotic insecurity thinks that the greater the jealousy, the greater the love. It is not, not even close.
Love builds, jealousy destroys. Nothing stands safe in the way of jealousy – whether friends or families, interests or religions, beliefs or principles, form or substance. It has a venom that rankles wherever it bites.
In all my previous relationships, I’m often mistaken as the least committed end. I seldom get jealous, only when its obvious and extreme. I never set relationship parameters – no rules to follow, no hedge to trespass. I invest on trust.
It is trust that makes me sleep even when my partner was out with her friends. It is trust that make me comfortable even if she was not replying to my messages.
Rather than fabricating answers that fuel my anxiety, it was trust that settled me to the positive thoughts. It is trust that anchored me on common sense.
Jealousy in romance is like salt in food – a little can enhance the flavor but too much can foil the pleasure.