Pretty specific, huh?
I guess it could be summed up to loving any material thing more than you love me, and in turn putting it ahead of me and treating it better than me.
Spiteful? Not so much anymore. This is mild.
Story time! So in one of my relationships, I competed with cars, trucks, dune buggies–pretty much anything with a motor. One time, we were going to the sprint car races early to reserve seats later that night. We parked the buggy and I undid my seatbelt. There were a lot of people around from out of town that I didn’t know–rough looking characters–and I didn’t want to stay out there by myself. As I pulled myself out of the buggy, he gave me a look.
“What?” I asked.
“Aren’t you going to stay here to guard the buggy?” he asked like it was common sense.
“Oh.” And because I was dumb and in love, I said, “Sure.”
I played second fiddle to anything with a motor for about two years. But I think 2 years was enough–the deal broke. I won’t come second fiddle anymore (in serious relationships). I love when guys have an interest. I mean, I went to countless races, car shows, and spent more time in a garage watching him work on cars than I can remember, and the truth was that it was okay because I knew it made him happy.
It was only when he started using his desire to buy more things with engines as a buffer to keep me at bay from a future that it was time to go.