Poetry About Jealousy Novels & Stories

Three nights ago I'd ridden him at dawn and made him beg. And now his hand was on hers and his face was stone and I was invisible again, the ghost behind the pitcher, the twin who didn't matter. The jealousy hit me so hard my vision tunneled. White-hot and vicious, because his hand was on hers and it should have been on mine. Because she was sitting in my chair and sleeping in my bed and wearing the title that belonged to the woman he'd said *I love you* to, and the universe that I'd told myself was correcting the balance was actually just letting us twist.

Feeling jealousy rise up like a wild stallion rearing it's ugly head. The two of them stare at each other speechless. If you enjoyed this chapter please leave a comment and vote for me by leaving gems. Thank you.

Apollo would have burned the chamber down if he had known. The conclusion landed fragile and trembling, something she forced herself to believe. She exhaled slowly, willing her mind to settle where the truth waited. He didn’t know. There was no way he could know. This was all about jealousy. Not being omniscient. Not prophetic nonsense. Just jealousy. And that realisation lodged somewhere sharp and disagreeable. Jealousy meant he saw the possibility of losing her. Jealousy meant he did not feel secure. Jealousy meant he saw her as something that could slip away.

In a way the whole situation reminded me that I was both—The breaker and the broken. I had broken more hearts than they've done to me but in the end it all summed down to us being nothing but domino's waiting to fall. Still, the presence of this strange man that could be my wife's lover filled the parking lot. That kindling in me fed on the warm flames in my chest that grew and grew in fury. My grip tightened on my phone as though I could clench it till it became nothing. I was overwhelmed by jealousy and I couldn't deal with it, I couldn't deal with sharing this woman.

_*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> His jealousy was still there. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> But it was changing shape in the knowledge's light. He looked at it directly and found that it was not the jealousy of a man who had been robbed of something that belonged to him. It was the jealousy of a being who had been given something beautiful and had not known what it was and had not tended it in the way it needed to be tended and had watched someone else tend it with the care and the seeing that he had not managed, and the jealousy was really grief, was the specific grief of recognizing your own failure clearly and completely and without the comfortable armor of your own rightness.

’ I quickly approach them, catching this whore red-handed cheating on me. They seemed to be scared to see me, well it's good cos they better be! *** Yes, jealousy was a feeling of an envious resentment that happened when our soulmate showed an attraction to someone else. It’s the unproven prejudice that could lead into harmful consequences, especially if our lover was truly innocent.

It hit the wall with a dull thud, completely unsatisfying. My chest heaved as I paced back and forth, my bare feet slapping against the cold floor. Heat crawled up my neck and spread across my face. Jealousy — ugly, vicious jealousy — twisted like a knife in my stomach. I couldn’t stop the vivid, unwanted pictures flooding my brain. Are they kissing right now? Is he touching her? Is she on her knees for him? Is he enjoying the way she moans his name?

“Let me spell it out to you. Tell me the woman who has your heart now. You promised me the seat of the Luna Queen so it does not matter if you met another woman while you were away.” Jealousy, they say, is a spirit that can drive a man in love to madness and right there, I felt an onset of madness. It raged inside me. I could already feel the texture of the blood of this other woman on my hands. I burned with hatred for her already.

But now, it was beginning to feel like nothing. Those victories hadn't lasted as much as I thought they would. My fingers curled into the stone ledge beneath the window, my nails biting into my palms. I told myself it was irritation, nothing more. A mild annoyance at my failed plan. But the truth burned too sharply to ignore. Jealousy was an ugly thing. And it sat in my chest like a living, breathing beast. Kari paused near the fountain, The maid saying something that made her laugh, with her head thrown back.