I'm female, INFJ.
I remember being envious of girls in college whose lives seemed so orderly in comparison to the rollercoaster chaos of my own. They looked so "normal" and I wanted that. I told myself if I tried hard enough, I could have that outward sense of serenity and self-confidence, but never achieved it. Some of this envy persisted through my 20s when I spent half my life on 72-hr holds in psych units and the other half explaining to friends, employers, etc. where I'd been without letting them know the truth. Once I discovered the reason for my rollercoaster life, a lot of this envy dissipated as I came to see it as just part of who I am and over time, even came to the realization that my fluid perception of reality and the uncertainty of what each day would bring enriched rather than detracted from my life. I went through a brief period of envying people who could walk, run, hike, ski, etc., shortly after I was initially disabled, but I don't know if this was really envy so much as a deep longing to return to the person I was before the injury.
Romantic jealousy...In the early '70s I was in a disastrous "open" marriage (it was kind of a craze in that era and something my husband at the time seemed to need). I was jealous at times, but rarely; it depended on the object of his affections (ex: I had a really hard time when he was convinced he was in love with my best friend). More recently the man I'm in love with was trying to "crack" the back of our dearest friend. Now, she's a Lesbian and I know that while he admires and respects her, there's nothing romantic between them; and I couldn't be more sure of his feelings for me. Nevertheless, the sight of his hands on her (fully-clothed) body sent my heart through the roof. I'm not sure it was jealousy because it didn't really feel like that, but whatever feeling it was was extremely powerful and I can't get a handle on it. Rare for me, since I'm prone to analyzing my feelings to death and usually have a pretty good understanding of them.