Today I am writing a letter for you which I hope would become a little bandage for your heart. A study on JEALOUSY. Because today is Sunday, I would like we become a little more intimate and talk about such a criticised feeling.
With one hand on my warm cup of tea, I am thinking retrospectively about the place of jealousy in this world. I sit and re-call the great novelist books which had shaken all world culture, the controversial but wonderful Tolstoi’s Anna Karenina, or Emily’s Bronte Catherine. I move towards our beautiful Romanian literature, and realise that absolutely every piece that made an impression had jealousy as the dominant feeling, in at least one of the literary points. From Stefan Gheorghidiu belonging to Camil Petrescu, to Ion of Rebreanu, going further with “The lucky mill” that Slavici created, or the enigmatic Felix and Olivia that Calinescu created, ending with the masterpiece of Eminescu, “Luceafarul” (i.e. The star upon). All these writings have a common element: jealousy, which internally or externally dominated the characters.
And so, why do we tend to see a malefic power withing the feeling of jealousy? Perhaps it is a destructive force when occurring within inter-human relationships, but jealousy is in and of itself an artistic power that creates. For me, jealousy represents a feeling that cannot be invalidated. If we feel jealous, we simply are. No other question. It either blinds us, seducing us and conquering our minds and rationality, stealing away our souls and bringing in passionate desires. Or, it absorbs us in a dark emptiness full of pain and then it numbs us, pulling out screams of pain meant to reach the pity of the one next to us. Yes, I am talking about the jealousy led by the power of a possessive love. I am not talking about human envy which can be manifested in thousands of beneficial ways.
In any of the above situations, that funeral pain that jealousy provokes is just the unheard scream of your heart. You might contradict me telling me if you are not jealous, you don’t love. I would rather say that if you loved yourself completely, you wouldn’t be jealous. Because when the person next to you betrays you, you just feel the pain of losing someone you love, a mature pain knowing that at one point, the roads might fall apart, but your happiness still remains. Because a pure love brings communication before anything else, it brings in the desire to understand the other’s feelings so that the situation does not turn into a latent nightmare. Jealousy, on the other hand, is the pain of not being good enough for your relationship. I would push a bit further and state that if you loved yourself, that reality of the possibility of being cheated, being thrown in the insanity of a love impregnated with the need of belonging, would not even exist. Because you would be a source of love, not of doubt, and so the spring would become of permanent state in your soul.
It seems like I am contradicting myself, struggling between appreciating the literature’s perspective and the reality’s one. But I am wondering, how comes all those fictional people attract us? It is truly because they depict our own lives, offering us validation for our own jealousy. All those characters are trying to tell you their story, the story of their fears, and if we read them with attention and devotion we would discover ourselves in the mirror. That would make us learn something beautiful about ourselves, through their perspective.
I hope my study attracted you. I am jealous sometimes, but I understood which is its source and so I opened my soul in front of the beloved one, which now gives me validation and understanding.
What do you feel, my beautiful readers, about jealousy?
See you tomorrow,