You married a diva

23 Jan 2012

Dear one,

I realized yet once again that I'm not cut out for backpacking trips.

I am sorely disappointed with the accommodation we got here in Melbourne. Exford Hotel doesn't fit into my definition of a hotel at all! That it is a backpackers' hotel, they should have had the integrity of putting that in their hotel's branding.

I just realized I'm ranting. I'm sorry, dear, you had married a diva. Or at least, Ben thinks I am one.

I'm not, really.

As you know, I'm no rich man's daughter. I was raised in a household with neither nanny nor maid and I was expected by my mother to help clean the house, wash dishes and wash clothes by hand. With that upbringing, how would one become a diva?!?

Well, "diva" wasn't the worst of it. I've been labelled "high maintenance" too. WTH. That label ticks me off, bigtime, most especially if the remark came from a guy who just met me and virtually knows nothing about me.

And there I go again, ranting. Sorry! I just hate it when people think it's difficult to be with me. Is it that difficult, dear?

Sometimes, I think I've been loved too much by my parents and that's what makes it difficult for other people to love me - because they think they need to compete with that love or maybe it's me expecting the same love from other people.

It's just sad that, as I write this now, no one else thinks I deserved that much.

You, dear one, will be the only, if not the first, who will have thought I deserved to be loved that much and more. That's how significant you will play a role in my life - the man who loved a so-called unlovable diva.