Mosquitoes are annoying little things. They're tiny and they buzz all over the place. But the worst thing about them is their bite. They're tiny but their bites pack a lot of punch. And the bites don't just sting for a bit and then disappear, oh no. They itch. And then you scratch them. And then they itch some more. And the more you scratch them, the bigger those bites grow till finally there's a scar where you don't one.
Now jealousy is a lot like a mosquito bite. It's small and it stings the first time it comes. But then it doesn't just go away. It comes back. And this time it itches a little more. If you scratch it just grows bigger and bigger. And then there's a scar. It's a potent thing, this jealousy. Sneaky and quiet, it attacks when you least expect it. And then it tests you, to see if you'll scratch it. It waits to see if you'll act on it. The strong ones, well they can keep the itch at bay, stand against the will to scratch and act. But what about those weak ones, the powerless ones? They scratch at that virus and boom, it wins.
And you know the worst thing about this jealousy? It doesn't differentiate between the people you love and everyone else. It attacks just as stealthily and bites just as hard. And that's what makes it worse. When you look at someone you love, someone you respect, and all that time the jealousy is itching and clawing at you. When you look at that person who means so much to you and your vision is clouded by that potent green monster, oh boy, it shows you how strong you really are, how much you are really made of.
Shakespeare called it a green-eyed monster. I just call it an annoying mosquito bite.