Okay, so I just got abandoned into a hotel suite in Copenhagen by my Dear ol’ dad. Apparently he was “needed”. So it was time for me to do some soul searching. How’s that all connected, you might ask. Well, mes petites, through this little link called “my dad’s underling”. He was rather cute, you see, and I hadn’t met him before. So of course I tried to appear as adorable and charming as I could. And then, when I was left alone, I checked my blogroll. And if someone had answered my earlier comments in a discussion. (more details in a moment, to explain that one.)
Which brought to mind what H said about me back in St. Barts. That while I don’t care about whether people like me or not, I want people to fall in love with me.
The annoying thing about H is that she knows me. Like, really knows me. And when she says something like that, you can bet your favourite pair of Louboutins she’s right. As she was in this case. I do want people to, if not fall madly in love with me as that’s highly potential stalker material, to be absolutely fascinated by me.
Why is that? Was I left with too little attention as a child? Was I made to work for affection? Do I feel like I have to earn people’s good opinion of me, their interest in me? Do I feel that what am I, when I’m not “being ii”, is not enough to make them like me?
Recently I’ve been involved in some pretty lively discussions with some people, some of which I know, but not all. And this all has happened on the blog of someone I like. Not as in “wish to shag senseless”, after all, there’s BF, but I do wish to become a good friend of this person. He interests me, and I hope to get to know him better. For clarity’s sake, let’s call him Boots.
Well, as I checked the blog in which we’ve been having these lively conversations, I noticed that Boots hadn’t reacted to my comment. And I wondered: why not? Why aren’t you paying me attention? What am I doing wrong, why don’t you like me?
How silly is that?!?
I have been called funny and smart and I’ve received all kinds of praise, even in that blog, from people who both know and don’t know me. It’s nice to get compliments. But after a while, when you do get them, you start craving for them, or for them to lead into something. If I’m so funny and clever and whatnot, why aren’t you paying more attention to me, Boots?!
Which is incredibly childish. But in line with H’s theory that I must have everyone fall in love with me.
I should go back to therapy, shouldn’t I?