When a man loves a woman, can a woman still love herself?

I have recently began watering my love life. Not vigorously, perhaps as much as you would water a cactus. I've had quite a bit of criticism for it though, well not straight out criticism. God forbid I get offended. My motives have been questioned though.
This guy I find cute, let's name him Dante, has questioned my motives.

Do I like him (a little) because I'm lonely? For a while I thought maybe that was it. However, I've had several advances while I've been feeling like this, and I did not take the bait. Women, you do not need a man just because you are lonely. If you're lonely, all you need is some wine, your girlfriends, or if you're alone, some tickling the skittle. I only want men when I like them.

Okay, so do I think I like him (a little) because I'm having a premature mid-life crisis and feel like I need to bang out my life (literally)? Maybe! I admit I am having a premature mid-life crisis, but that has to do more with drinking at 1pm, dancing where there's no business dancing, telling rude people off, being nice to people who deserve it, and eating what I want, when I want. Not sex. No. That's... not my comfort zone, even though I'm all for breaking out of the comfort zone. It's a complex situation.

Actually no, it's quite simple. I'm not ready for intimacy. I'm ready for jokes and what-not.

Returning to the point at hand, and to the title of this post, "when a man loves a woman, can a woman still love herself?"
At what point are you beginning to please a man to make yourself happier? Is it when you make an excuse for why you are drinking at 1pm, instead of just because you want to. Is it when you pretend you haven't seen a movie just so he can tell you about it?
What's the line?
When do you stop loving yourself, in order to make him like you more?

SO--

So I met this guy. It was this past week, on Queen's Night/King's Day here in Holland. We'll call him Louis. That's not his real name, or even close, but it'll be safe to call him that since well... no one knows anyway. So Louis and I got a long... he sort of, got me. Or pretended to anyway, I don't know. But because I already fell in love, began a life, and lost it, I don't deal in bullshit, or one night things, or whatever...I decided to like him, and I did, he was nice and fun. There's nothing wrong with wanting nothing more.

But there is for me, in a way. I feel like a fool. And the truth that I knew all along is settling in with me even harder. It will be very, very hard for me to find someone who can understand what I want, and not be scared of it. I've done the whole dating thing, one night stand thing, one week thing, and two week thing, and I don't need to do it again. I don't want someone who wants 'something casual'. I don't want 'something casual'. I want something real, I want a connection. I realise now how hard it is for people when they hear that straight away.

It's scary.

It's even scarier for me.

To know I will most likely go through this dozens of times. Even one is eating at me.

I need someone who also lost their moon and stars.

Scratch My Back

So, it's been a while. Quick quick update on my life: work uni work party uni work party. In short, I've been very busy, but as anyone who's read my blog from the beginning of beginnings, you should know I have a constant stream of bizarre crap in my head and quite frankly if I were to put that on Facebook I'm sure my friends would ship me off to a mental hospital.
I've got a mouth full of diamonds and a pocket full of secrets.

The boy is scared of the girl, but the girl misses her mother. They undress each other and with it goes their childhood, socks and all. For a second they'll forget how they were taught to strive for the impossible, to feel homesick for a place that doesn't, never has and never will, exist.
I wish I could kiss you like I did back when I believed in victory and death and destiny.

I've always felt a little alone my whole life, but never lonely. Especially a while ago, oh I was the happiest girl you'd know. I've felt little pokes of the old man's solitude. You know the one that claws up your throat and makes it hard to breathe, when you stand alone in your kitchen and know that there is no one in the house, no one you can call and no one you can talk to. The one that makes you want to reach for a bottle but you don't because you know alcoholism runs in your family and girl, you don't want to go down that road. Oh but I do. I won't.

When I was a child I used to run out of school on breaks with my best friend, we would go find a fountain that was of course, frozen, it being Finland and all. We sat there for the whole lesson until one day my teacher found us. We were 9 and being 9, I didn't know what was wrong or right or kind of wrong or a bit right or somewhere in between. I said it was all my friend's fault- I've been paying for it ever since and in the future, I believe I'll always try and take the blame.
We also used to make concoctions with chemicals and things, then see what happens. Once I forgot it in my pocket and it exploded in the bus. That stuff smelled horrible, I think it had washing powder, some CIV liquid, and some other random crap.
No wonder our Finnish teacher kept a bottle of vodka in the cupboard. He was sacked for paedophilia.

Tomorrow I'll wake up with the usual shaking and shivering and a mouth full of diamonds or- dry hay.
Drunkard thought my mother was my boyfriend.

Maybe I'm doing this to lessen the old man's solitude. Make it more a post-break up loneliness. I broke up with my family, they moved away. I've been dumped.
The boy fears the girl who misses her mother.
The girl who misses her mother doesn't even notice the boy, only wants to scratch his back with her sharp red nails to not be alone.

Would you like me to take you away from here?