You used to think I was jealous because I was a possessive person. You used to think I didn't want to share you; that the thought of another person touching you made my skin burn.
My jealousy did not come from possessiveness.
It came from insecurity. It came from the reality that I was giving you less than what you deserved.
You deserved the warmest hellos and the saddest goodbyes but I disregarded you like you weren't rare. You deserved all the attention that one can give. You deserved to be chased even when you were already caught. You deserved tender lips and ultimate worship. You deserved fragile care.
I didn't give you that.
I gave you cold shoulders and reckless caring. I gave you little to no nurturing and I will forever hate myself for it.
I was jealous because I knew someone else could have offered you better. I was jealous because I knew someone could offer you love.
I was jealous because I was scared you would realize.
You were too naive to admit it.