Some people have everything they want, except the absolute destruction of another soul. You could call it a late term abortion of sorts, a play into the afterbirth of afterlife. Especially if the person suffering from a lifetime of jealousy has always been allowed to persevere without impunity: making telephone calls, engaging others in a web of hateful lies, and plotting isolation, and ruin, for their target person.
Most intelligent people never intentionally involve themselves in a cheap, childish, two-faced charade; however, there are exceptions. You can usually spot them by their innate lack of true "social security." By the term "social security" I am simply referring to a person who has found themselves in a truly plushed and undeserved, possibly fragile, lifestyle. They are surprised to find they are on the upswing, rather than down, where persons of their intellectual level usually dwell. You can easily detect insecurity masquerading as buffoonery.
Nevermind me, I am a chronic skeptic, and well known lowlife; however, I truly believe everyone will eventually suffer bone chilling humility, buffoon or not. Circumstances come along, uncontrollable, like a skid on the ice, and suddenly the truth is staring one in the face: the planning was in futility, the truth is undeniably obvious, the charade is revealed!
I always think of the one hit wonder written by Margaret Mitchell, "Gone with the Wind." If you have read her epic, or if you have ever seen the fabulous movie, then you will remember the Slattery couple. They were "white trash" until, by some miracle, they accumulated a little wealth. But under the fine clothes, and beneath the skin, they were trapped into their own narrow vision of what constitutes success, and is deserving of snobbery. They were trash, and money couldn't change the obvious.
People, who are psychopathically jealous, live in a constant state of drama and worry. They cannot risk the skid into truth, and they cannot face their own warped definition of success. In reality, they have done nothing but fail--they live in a pressure cooker of hatred and duplicity. Us, who are always confused because we simply don't understand this kind of mental illness, have to struggle along and continue our journey into happiness. The bumps along the road, engineered by the jealous and hateful, are just little challenges that further strengthen our personal convictions. With each passing year we are shown a bit more while accumulating valuable wisdom.
In spite of our tragic losses, bitterness is not an option.