Yeah, jealousies are a bitch.

I know that I shouldn't be jealous but at the same time I feel utterly fucking justified. Quinn and I have been dating for six months now and yet she still seems to be obsessing over Rachel freaking Berry.

I mean come on, the woman is practically freaking married.

And here I am, ready and willing to make Quinn's every dream come true. Quinn is my world, my goddess, my Aphrodite and yet...

It's all I can do to keep her attention directed towards me.

I can't help but make small comparisons to my relationship with Brittany. I know it's wrong but whatever. I can't help where my thoughts drift. I'm not freakin Ghandi. Sometimes my mind makes its own comparison's between how Quinn treats me to how Britt used to treat me. Sure, Britt wasn't always necessarily there for me but she was always there when we were together.

One on one she would look at me like I was her entire world. When we would braid each other's hair and paint each other's nails she would stop to look in my eyes like...wow, she didn't know how she got so lucky in being with me. And it was so easy for me to look at her like she was the most precious person in the world and like I would never ever tire of looking at her face.

Now Quinn. Quinn is an entirely different person to be around. She challenges me, infuriates me and then makes me love her like I can't ever love anything else.

She looks at me like she can't be any more disappointed in me and then the very next second it will be like she has never seen anyone quite so perfect in the world.

For my part, I always look at her like she's a little bit crazy and a little bit perfect. I can't tell you what that looks like exactly but that is what I feel. When we talk politics and history; when we talk sex and alcohol; when we skip talking and go straight to fucking, I feel like Quinn is the only person on this earth I could be with.

But then she gets this look in her eye when she talks about Rachel freaking Berry that just makes my blood run to ice in my veins. I want to punch the little Smurf in the face and the punch her again for even looking at my girlfriend.

I still don't know how we've ended up spending so much time together, the three of us. I never figured that when Quinn transferred to NYU that I would be getting facetime with the illustrious Rachel Berry. I mean, I figured that Rachel would be way too busy singing or dancing or whatever the fuck she does at NYADA to be spending time with her fellow Lima expatriates. It never occurred to me to think that I would be dragged out to sing karaoke with Rachel Berry. Every. Fucking. Weekend.