A smattering of people have paid me compliments lately. It makes me wonder whether they like me, and that makes me uncomfortable. This is my life score to date:
A few people have loved me, or so they said.
A few people have respected me, or so it appeared.
A few people have hated my guts, and they didn’t hide the fact.
A lot of people have disliked me. Sometimes they made it plain, and sometimes they expressed it more subtly.
Most people have been indifferent to me, so that’s what I’m most used to.
Very few people have ever liked me, as far as I know.
I’m not a likeable person. I always end up saying or doing something that annoys or hurts people. I don’t usually mean to, but it happens frequently so it must be my fault. Maybe it’s because I need to keep people at a certain distance in order to better observe them, I don’t know. And maybe it’s why those who have rung the romantic bell have usually seen the worst sides of me at some point, because romantic partners get far too close. Thankfully, it’s never involved violence, but emotional wounds go deeper.
So, better not like me. OK?
I’ll try to put the ego on a back burner for the next ramble.
And I’d prefer not to have comments on this post. Thank you. Oh, and I’m not depressed or anything, just in case anybody might wonder. It’s just that I have a fear of heights.
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