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The Green-Eyed Monster (with pink polka dots)

Someone, who can not be named for legal reasons, as they say, has just found himself this most rare of commodities: a boyfriend.

In the past few days, I have spent several hours with the new lovebirds, for lurve it is we are talking about, apparently. Holding the candle (as the French say) is not exactly my favourite sport, but the groom is quite personable and friendly and, for my benefit, they seemed to make efforts to refrain the incontrollable urge that for ever pushed them to touch and do those other revolting things new lovers do in public.

I am afraid that this might be due to my acerbic tongue and the fact that I tried to be discrete and give them some space to get on with their story. I also felt like a spinster aunt from time to time, benignly looking over two rosy-cheeked children. The fact that I felt at times rather envious of what they have might have transpired too. My impression is that they might have misinterpreted my feelings.

I am very happy for them both but being around them brings starkly home the fact that I am unable to relate to people which in turn makes the eventuality of my finding myself in a situation similar to theirs most unlikely. What I feel is not jealousy as might be the first impression but rather, as I mentioned earlier, envy.
Envy is not wishing that you don't want someone to have what you want, it's wishing you had it too.
How do you get from jealousy to envy?, by Kimiko, property of Soulhuntre.
I simply don't think I will, as per the previous post and others, and that is sometimes a little close to the bone for comfort.

An unexpected expression of my diseased mind took the form of a strange feeling of identification by which I find myself vicariously partaking into the feelings exposed before me and tending towards sharing (to a very tenuous degree) those of the "someone" referred to above for his friend. This when, in other circumstances, I objectively would not have an interest of a similar nature, in the "friend". I am almost feeling bereft not seeing him now and mildly longed for his touch/contact (not sexually, though) when we were all together. Again, this has nothing to do with the persons involved but is simply some strange optical illusion of the mind and the result of frustration. This could have happened with almost anyone.

If you, my dear readers, didn't already know that I am weird, here is the proof you needed and were waiting for.

In the meantime, I would like to wish the best of luck to our two heroes. They will need all the luck they can get. And this is not another expression of my bitter, twisted, cynical and spinsterly mind but the result of circumstances I can't go into here.

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