Pangs of jealousy

From the beginning she loved him with a passionate, obsessive, possessive love. She told herself it was because  it had been so difficult for them to be together at last, as she had never been like this in her previous relationships. And it wasn’t that she wasn’t sure of his love – she knew he loved her and he showed it in a million different ways. No …It was just that he was so handsome and  looked at other women in such a way…she wasn’t sure why, or when it started, she only knew it made her feel uncomfortable.


After a certain time whenever they went out together she was always scanning around for “potential enemies” as she now saw most women. She even became suspicious of some of her friends with whom he was friendlier and would always hang around to make sure no one forgot she was his steady girlfriend, soon his fiancée and his bride to be. They quarrelled many times over her suspicions, only to make up passionately after he swore, for the hundredth time, that he loved only her, having no interest whatsoever in other women. If only she could believe him.  She would, for a short time, and then her insecurities would invade her and she would start all over again.


Even so, their love grew. One day, in the subway as they headed for a downtown restaurant to have lunch, he opened a little box with a diamond ring and asked her to marry him.  She threw myself into his arms and said yes without hesitation.


They were married, and still her jealousy consumed her. Deep in her heart and as much as she loved that man she  knew he would not make her happy, because she could not trust him. Well, she did in many ways, but not regarding other women. She knew he could – would – be faithless and she knew she would not bear it the day it  happened. But she could not bear let him go either.


They were happy for a while. She kept her jealousy under control with the occasional outburst, but still they got by. They built a home, made plans for the future. They quarrelled over many issues though. But no matter how mad they got at each other, they always concluded their love was stronger and worth fighting for. So they fought on.


They went through a serious crisis and his odd behaviour – along with some malicious gossip – told her this time her suspicions were founded. When he got home one day after being impossible to locate she confronted him. His feeble denials could not convince her and she left home, staying away for a few days. But then he went after her, saying how much he loved her, how false it all was, how she shouldn’t let lies destroy heir life…and after some time her battered heart gave in and she went back to him. She still loved him passionately. A part of her told her they would never be happy together, she would never trust him entirely, but the other half pulled her to him irresistibly like a magnet…and they resumed their life together, even if something had irremediably broken inside her heart.


Years went by. They had their happy moments, and unhappy too. Many things happened and over the years they slowly but steadily drifted apart. She realised her jealousy was not so strong anymore, its voice had become feebler, she no longer felt its claws. Slowly she understood something had irrevocably changed inside her. It was not that she  was older and wiser or that she trusted him more, it was just that, somehow, she was caring less and less if he  looked at other women or even if she thought he had an interest in them  Her heart no longer beat for him as it had, gone were the violent quarrels and the passionate  reconciliations. A coldness installed itself between them as an unforgiving wind blew away the cold embers of their love.


When it came – when it really came and this time he didn’t even try to deny it – she felt nothing. No revolt, no fury, no jealousy – just sadness that a love such as theirs had ebbed away, that a love they had thought so great had finally come to nothing. In a way, she felt relieved – she  finally understood she no longer felt that all-consuming jealousy that had poisoned her life for so long. This time, when it came and it was real, not some product of her fruitful imagination, she no longer cared. At long last, she was free.




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