Logic or; Crazy Lady Syndrome

There is one run in my pantyhose which I didn’t anticipate or foresee before I fell in love: the jealousy factor. Honestly; I never saw it coming.

I was always the girl who couldn’t understand why her friends would become such tyrants to their boyfriends, as the green monster arose, when the boyfriends quite obviously only had eyes for them.

“To cure jealousy is to see it for what it is; dissatisfaction with self”. Joan Didion said that. Smart woman.
And yet it still proves to be an immensely difficult and loathsome task, attempting to cure jealousy.

The insecurity feeds the fear in me and it’s quite something to keep it at bay when I’m feeling fragile. I remember the first time I felt the colour change and subsequent times that followed and I detest it.
Although you may have your reasons, I can probably assure you that they are truly ridiculous and unfounded in most cases where your partner has NOT been unfaithful, or thought of being unfaithful.

I have fond memories of a conversation I had with my wise little sister not so long ago about this topic and I was grateful that she got some, if not all, of my unbalanced theories and shared my quirks. We realised how amusingly absurd most of them were, we also realised that we have always known how illogical and unreasonable we are at times but in that moment, that moment of laughable foolishness, with our knowledge and all, we cannot help it. We blame our mother.

For example: the age old:
Man “What’s wrong?” he asks, concerned and clueless.
Woman “Nothing.” She answers, avoiding eye contact, arms still folded to ensure he knows she is upset.
Why? WHY can she not just tell him what is aggravating her, why can’t she tell him what he has “done”? He cannot read her mind, just like Edward Cullen can’t read Bella Swan’s, and he’s a vampire!
Eventually; inevitably, his patience wears thin which, in turn, makes her even more furious.
Problem unsolved.

This is just the tip of the ice berg of course. There is the boyfriend who is the only male in an office full of women.
The boyfriend who has many female friends whom you were ok with when you started dating but now have a problem with.
After revealing conversations of people from our past, it is hard to forget the names and details of relationships of yesteryears, fearing feelings lying dormant inside his heart. How can you know for sure? How can you forget that her name was Sarah and there was an attraction but she was too young, or Samantha who he loved for years until she left him? How do you know that you’re the one he wants to be with because you are and not because Sarah was too young or Samantha eventually left? What if one of them is his dream girl and you are a consolation prize?
And then what do you do when they keep reappearing in his life as friends?
I blame movies for my vivid imagination.

You hate these women, because they stand between you and the most amazing relationship in the world. They stand between you and knowing. Between you and peace.
The case of the ex’s. And the wondering in your mind whether there is still something there every time they are together or he talks about her.
There’s the: What if he sees in someone else what he saw in me, but better. What if What if!

I wish I had some kind of conclusion, a solution to this problem. With a sigh; I don’t.

We’re just crazy and constantly searching for affirmation; reassurances, and if we are lucky enough to find a man who will find this neurotic behaviour cute and complimentary; we’ve hit the man jackpot!