O Beware...

O, beware, my lord, of jealousy;
It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock
The meat it feeds on; that cuckold lives in bliss
Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger;
But, O, what damned minutes tells he o'er
Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves.

Shakespeare, Othello, Act III, scene III

It's not that I'm in a particularly Shakespearean period, but have you ever noticed how basically the bard has written everything that could be written, and better than anyone else, about the human spirit? An unlimited source of quotes about every aspect of the human soul. Which is the reason why, four centuries after he wrote, and in four thousand years to come (if we'll not destroy ourselves) he will still be on scene, as human nature hasn't changed much nor will do. Ambition, Love, Jealousy, Passion, Desire... how much they rule our moods and actions, and how little we do rule on them and at what cost, when we do.

Jealousy. Where does it come from? Lack of trust? Or the knowledge that we instinctively have that it takes but a moment of distraction for losing what we love, or for what we love to lose itself while we can't do anything or do not even know? But if it is in our nature, why do we fall under its spell in a different way, and whole cultures can be more inclined to jealousy than others? And what's that relly terrifies us, the fear of loss, or the anger that someone else will, or simply could, have what we dearly love and treasure?

But truly, when sleep won't come at night, we are short on breath and a ton of invisible bricks has been laid upon our heart, all those are pointless questions, aren't they?