Jealousy, Turning Saints into the Sea

I try very hard not to be a jealous person. I do my best to keep it tucked away in the corner of my existence with those other ugly traits (read: temper) that only make an appearance when deliberately provoked. Jealousy usually equates insecurity, doesn't it? And I'm generally a secure and confidant person. Not that I don't spend time looking over my shoulder every now and then, but more often than not I look forward, not back. However there is nothing logical about jealousy. It is one of those heinous, irrational feelings that creeps in when you least expect it. Oh its irrational, all right. And all-consuming. If you're not careful, it will drown you in a sea of doubt and frustration.

Today I woke up with the weight of the world on my shoulders. Ugly. Questioning. Dissecting my life. Its annoying and unrelenting, like a headache after one too many glasses of wine. Maybe the anxiety is grounded in insecurity, but I think its primarily founded in hurt. Fear. Disappointment, evolving on that thin layer where the trust begins to buckle. Trust in myself. In others. The results are unanswerable questions. I HATE unanswerable questions. But I cannot predict the future. I cannot read minds and I cannot look into hearts. So I am left to probe motives and direction, questioning my devotion to a role in a twisted play that I never auditioned for, and wondering if there ever comes a time when we stop acting.