Wading into the waters where the Green Eyed Monster lurks

Envy
Exclusion
Competitiveness

Those are the 3 flavors of the week.
I'm sure there are more, but those are the 3 that have been identified and need to be dealt with.

What do I Envy?
I envy that you will wear a piece of jewelry she gave you to work, when I was told long ago that you couldn't wear jewelry because it was dangerous in a machine shop.
I envy that you can text with her and communicate more than you ever communicated with me.
I envy that you have someone else to play with often and I do not.
I envy that you can tell her you care for her, while I cannot admit that to my special playmate.
I envy that you have so much patience for the drama and baggage that her marriage carries into our lives, when I have worked so hard to keep drama out of your life because you didn't want it.


What makes me feel Excluded?
I feel excluded because you take her into another room or a different location to be affectionate, and limit that affection in front of me.
I feel excluded that you won't share details of your journey with me.  I want to know what your thinking, how it's feeling, special names...those special things I shared with you.
I feel excluded that you always want to be alone with her, not including me in time together to just hang out.

Why do I feel Competition?
I am feeling an unfairness.
It's unfair that I passed up so many opportunities to play in order to show you how you were #1 in my priorities.  You take advantage of every opportunity, even when her husband is having problems with it.
It's unfair that I paid such close attention to the time in which I played so that you would know that you could trust rely on me.  When you loose track of time with her, I percieve it as loosing track of me.
It's unfair that I tell my playmates how much I love you and emphasize your my #1 priority, and you don't make that a priority to tell her.
It's unfair that you wanted to be where I was and I felt the pressure of you waiting for me to finish playing so you could drive me home, and I give you only a time in which I want you in my bed at night.

I realize these points are all irrational.  I realize that in all these instances, it was me making the decisions to give, rarely did you vocalize or ask me to give it.  I am dealing with them the best way I can.  I talk to you.  I talk to people. I read about it.  And now, I blog about it.

Most of all.  I love you.