“For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory; While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.”
2 Corinthians 4:17-18 KJV
I’m both jealous and envious of every person that has been near you, touch you and loved you before I.
I’m jealous that for a moment they held my entire world, and that they may have been better at it.
I’m envious that they were present in your life long before I did. That they know you in a way I never will.
I’ve always been the jealous type, not because I don’t trust men, but because my mind is wired a way that makes me feel as though I am not enough. That I’m not good enough, that I’ll never be good enough. That I’ll never be someone’s first choice, in a relationship or a friendship. I know this is my own anxieties eating away at my soul, but those same anxieties cloud my “sane” mind.
What’s meant to be, in life or in personal relationships, will be. We can not stop the pain, or the bad from happening, just like we cant force happiness and love. We cant wish for rainbows without dealing with the clouds, the storms.
Sometimes I get so caught up in my own pain, my own worries that I fail to see the good around me, I fail to focus on the good things I have; fail to cherish living.
I may not be “perfect” but I should know I am enough.
I should feel proud of all I’ve gone through, maybe I’m not where Or who I want to be but I’m so much more then I was. I’m living through my sorrow now instead of living in it. I’m trying to see things in a positive light, which I’ve never done before. I’ve come to far out of my shell to go back into it.
But still my jealousy of other people, their lives, their relationships bare heavy on my soul. I do not allow my heart to be penitrated by others words, the walls I built so high and thick that I am unable to love, so why am I jealous of those who are able to love? It’s no one else’s fault or concern as to why, at almost 25, I am still single. I know many people who aren’t societies idea of “beauty” that are loved so deeply that it radiates through their bodies making them more beautiful then any Victoria secret model.
Why am I not allowing myself to feel that, why am I searching for perfect when I know perfect does not exist?
Why do I envy people with children and in love when I’m the only thing in my own way?
Basically, I’m my own worse enemy.