Ela mesma admite

ATENÇÃO: SPOILER.  Extraído do livro Petite Anglaise.

When James feel in love with petite anglaise and came into our lives, I willingly clambered on to a rollercoaster. There were moments when I doubted the wisdom of my actions. Moments when I worried that the blog was living my life for me, or pushing me to reveal more than I should to satisfy my thirst - and my readers´thirst - for drama, for material, so that the show must go on. Petite anglaise looked on with interested detachment, using me as a guinea pig, a lab rat, placing me in ever more unexpected situations to see how I would react. All the while furiously scribbling, documenting my emotions, recording my every move.

Maybe it wasn´t really James I fell in love with, I think to myself with a sudden blinding flash of clarity. Would it not be fair to say that I fell for my own words, or the image of myself that he reflected back at me, the carefully constructed, larger than life version of me: petite anglaise? Everything she wrote was in some way calculated to charm and seduce, and hadn´t James been the most tangible proof of her success?