Sweet About Me (Gabriella Cilmi)


When I started this blog, I also had another idea for another blog – which was to write the fictional “what-if” paths to my life.
What if I did this – What if I said that – What if he actually talked to me…

This post is a nod to this idea and concerns the fictious story of “what if he actually talked to me”.


Along with being terrible at flirting with people, I am also terrible at understanding signs that are coming my way. Not that there is a jam of signs that are being thrown at me, but the very few I don’t see, simply because I am not expecting them.
To put it as dramaticly as possible, I have been traumatized a couple of times when I was younger – so I stopped assuming that when boys/men were checking me out, it mean that they thought I was attractive.

The first and most damaging time this has happaned was a few summers ago. I was on vacation by this sea-side motel with my family and our friends. This was the one summer I felt pretty confident with my body, having lost weight during the year, I had promoted myself from chubby to curvy. There was this guy that I thought was cute, and I could swear he was checking me out the whole day too. Being the long vacation this was, my friends finally became friends with this guy. Turns out, not only he had a crush on my friend, he also thought I was so freaking fat, and that was the reason he was staring. He was sorry. Well, sorry my ass? I suppose. It’s beyond me why he would ever admit to this to my friends, but what’s more annoying is after this – after being crushed so awkwardly during a pretty confident time in my life, I just stopped ever assuming that people looked at me because they were attracted to me. Sad, yes, but it also proved to be protective too. I never experienced anything like this ever again.

“Sweet about me, nothing sweet about me

However, this also resulted in me being really curious about the “what if” stories with these guys that I noticed looking at me. “What if they are staring because they think I’m a fatty”, “What if they are looking because I have no make-up on, and it’s just weird to them” and the crowd-favorite: “What if this guy is actually checking me out? What if he really thinks I’m cute?”

So this is an ongoing curiosity in me.
And it happaned today too. I went to a play in a tiny place today, and my friend and I were sitting real close to the stage. I caught one of the actors looking at our side, at me, so many times. I’ll admit I thought he was good looking, and he had this deep voice that was really attractive. So yes, I did want him to be looking our way, so I could sneak in a milisecond eye contact.

What if? What if? What if?
What would happen, if he came by our table at the end of the show? And when we were leaving, what would have happened if he was the one behind us on the way to the exit? What if we talked?
Just for once in my life, what if he came by and talked to me. Tried to flirt with me. Just once. What if?

“Tell you something that I’ve found,
That the world’s a better place when it’s upside down”

But of course we didn’t talk.
He basically vanished after the play.
I’m probably not going to see him ever again. Well, maybe I will, but I won’t recognize him.
Because it’s not about him. He’s not special, to put it crudely.
It’s about what he could have been, for me, finally.

There it is.
The happy ending to todays story is non-existent. It’s fiction that couldn’t make it into the real world.



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