Would a cake by any other name taste as sweet?
Last month when I first saw ‘the comment’ posted on one of my last blog posts, which was sent to my inbox via email notification – I knew immediately who it was, even before I saw his personal email at the bottom of his WordPress account. (btw, ace job on remaining anonymous.)
Here we go again.
In a state of panic, oddly the chorus to this song started playing in my head…
Why an ex that was content enough to dump me over a year ago would seek me out and go rummaging through my private life via blog posts is beyond me. Too much time on his hands maybe? Morbid curiosity? Regardless, like I always say – if you go digging for shit, you’re more than likely going to eventually find it. In my case an enormous, fossilized, very candid and unmistakable dinosaur shit you’re not going to like.
People say shit.
Most of my literal recollections of him: ‘The Englishman/English Patient,’ post break-up have been far less than complimentary. However during the early ‘euphoric period’ of our relationship I said plenty of wonderful things, ie:
“I want to buy him house-shoes so he doesn’t get dog hair on his socks when he comes over, and I never want to get angry enough at him to toss them in the bin.
I just want to hear him call me “sweetie” over, and over again, and watch him in my kitchen eat PB, honey, and bananas on toast in my blue bathrobe, and house shoes…
But of course this and all the rest, never got read.
So later the same evening I spent a last couple of hours single-handedly and unintentionally fucking up my blog trying to privatize most of my older posts.
Do you REALLY care?
Does it really matter now?…
YES, it does matter, and perhaps NOT for obvious reasons.
This led me once again to contemplate the dilemma of telling someone of it’s existence and the sometimes sordid, personal content written within… Because there actually IS someone to tell. My secret being this certain someone with whom I have become very fond of in the last few months during our chronic correspondence and Skype conversations, someone I respect a great deal for many reasons, and a someone whom has never been mentioned in this blog thus far. A mystery man of sorts, and above all someone I don’t wish to risk a shit-storm, over some literary-farts regarding my past, (limited) quasi-graphic sex-life, and intimate (neurotic) thought process. Because as we know…
We humans are curious creatures, and some just can’t handle the truth…
And sometimes my truth hurts.
So I came clean.
(Of course after niking the temptation via privatizing most of the incriminating evidence)
Prior I had successfully avoided and maneuvered around divulging too much info. He had only read some select (less detailed) “articles” (aka. blog material) I voluntarily sent him in PDF format and keeping the dreaded ‘B-word’ out of all conversation. I knew eventually he’d find me out anyways, by some means, come across it somehow, and it wasn’t worth the risk of him reading all of it and running like hell before looking me in the eyes, AND I sure don’t want to know the details of HIS dirty laundry and intimate thought process.
The verdict thus far: He’s worth it. He likes me, he likes my work (very much), and won’t read it’s existing content unless I send him the link. He doesn’t need/want to know of all of Cakes McCain’s train wrecks, fuck-ups, and varied debauchery anyways, he wants to know ME. Case closed…