Contrary to popular belief I don't really get jealous much. For some reason I don't hold onto envy for very long even when I am aware some someone has something that I *would* very much like to have. When comes to someone's attention things start to change a little. And it's not even in the sort of vein of wanting someone's significant other. As far as I can tell that's never happened, but I *do* get jealous when someone is getting the attention I wish I had. This happens almost exclusively with friends I'm not romantically interested in. A friend will innocently spend an evening talking to someone who isn't me and I'll suddenly feel all burned up over it. It doesn't make it any damned sense at all. Yet I've ended friendships over it. That's jealousy for you.

I don't really get being jealous of someone's SO. Same with getting jealous over a thing like a car or a job, or even the fact that someone is in a relationship and you're not. But clearly it happens and when it does the emotions are raw and mighty. And rather scary. One of the best chronicles of this is on Ani di Franco's Dilate. Yeah, I'm being obvious. Bite me.

Oddly, none of the songs I know well about this subject are addressed to the person they're jealous of. "Untouchable Face" is addressed to the person the singer wishes to be with, rather than that person's "better half."

Untouchable Face
Ani di Franco
think i'm going for a walk now
i fell a little unsteady
don't want nobody to follow me
'cept maybe you
i could make you happy, y'know
if you weren't already
i could do a lot of things
and i do

tell you the truth i prefer
the worst of you
too bad you had to have a better half
she's not really my type but i think you two are forever
and i hate to say it
but you're perfect together

so fuck you
and your untouchable face
and fuck you
for existing in the first place
who am i that i should be vying for your touch
bet you can't even tell me that much

two-thirty in the morning
and my gas tank will be empty soon
neon sign on the horizon
rubbing elbows with the moon
a safe haven
of sleepless
where the deep fryer's always on
and the radio is counting down
the top twenty country songs
and out on the porch the fly strip
is waving like a flag in the wind
y'know, i don't look forward
to seeing you again
you'll look like a photograph of yourself taken from far far away and
i won't know waht to do
and i won't know waht to say

except fuck you
and your untouchable face
and fuck you
for existing in the first place
who am i
that i should be vying for your touch
who am i
bet you can't even tell me that much

I see you and i'm so perplexed
what was i thinking
what will i think of next
where can i hide
in the backroom there's a lamp
that hangs over the pool table
and when the fan is on it swings
gently side to side
there's a changing constellation
of balls as we are playing
i see orion and say nothing
the only thing i can think of saying

is fuck you
and your untouchable face
and fuck you
for existing in the first place
who am i
that i should be vying for your touch
who am i
bet you can't even tell me that much

To me it cuts deep because it's so simple and unwavering. It's the sort of thing I don't have cure for or even a good way of assuaging the symptoms. When I come upon someone that deeply inside themselves all I can do is watch and wait warily as they ride it out.

Then there is the attention vying with a thing. This I identify with, sadly, all too well.

M Bike
PJ Harvey
His M-Bike's clean
He polish that thing
He looks her over
More than me
But I won't let it
Get to me
Yeah he can play with
His machine

Night and day
rain or shine
he looks at her shape
and not at mine
But I'm not complaining
No I think it's neat
Yeah he can play with
His machine

But all he's speaking
And all he sees
Is just his motor-
Bike not me!

No I won't let it
Get to me
Can't stop thinking of
His goddamned machine

~MOTOR~

I could take lady
Coast her out west
Ride his motor
Over the edge

Yeah I could break her
Break her, break me
You can think what you like
But get rid of that
Goddamned machine

Yeah I could break her
Break her, break me
You can think what you like
But I fucking hate
His motor-bike

Okey. Jealousy is damned powerful emotion. You can tell by all the "fucks" in these songs. sheesh people.

I once read something from Maya Angelou that likened jealousy to salt. A little bit makes everything much more savory. A lot will kill a person.

Obvious Answers:
Tori Amos: Past the Mission
TMBG: Santa's Beard