Jealousy

Rearing its rancid, festering head
Supposedly its a quality of my astrological sign, which was supposed to be of some comfort, since D's sign suggests he'd find it more endearing than offensive. But still, its not so cool. Sometimes its awful. Its ugly. Its sickness. Its evil.

He watches beautiful women on TV and it becomes unnerving. Is he lusting? Does he want them? Does he wish he could make me like them; their fabricated faces, and flawless done-up doos?

Beauty is on the inside. Is it? Who believes that?

But he loves me. I can tell it more every day. The way he's looking at me. Holding my hand. Smiling in my direction for no particular reason. He does. And i love him- more every day. So much so it feels like ill explode. I can't release him from my hold.

I am happy. Consistantly happy. Day after day of happy. It doesn't seem to subside. After several months, it appears not to be a fluke.
I'm excited about life. I've begun to imagine things working out. For me. For him. For us. Is this a dangerous state to entertain?