Love Letters #30

I am a liar.

Em, can you help me with this tie?

Didn’t you hear me? I’m a liar.

He leant his forehead on the doorframe. His hair was thick, black, shiny. It was straight, almost spiky and fell over his wonderfully tan forehead. He was outlandishly handsome. There was no denying that.

Don’t you want to know what I am talking about?

He looked at her sideways, and there was tiredness in his hazel eyes, green in the dim haze of the dingy hotel room. Then he walked slowly towards her, slouching, his back a weary hump, and put his head on her shoulder. They stood like that for what seemed like an age.

Dean?

He didn’t say anything. He just leant on her, and she had to bend her knees slightly to support his weight. He smelled of leather and expensive spice. A hint of manufactured tobacco essence, and cinnamon. She could smell his hair, so human and masculine, clean sweat. She closed her eyes and loved him incredibly in that moment.

I lied to you, Dean. I lied ab-

Shhh. Just – shhhh.

His finger was on her lips. He straightened up, tied his tie, slid his watch on to his wrist and went to the door.

Come on.

She went.

They were silent, walking down the stairs. Her heart was racing, and she glanced sideways at him as they emerged through the dirty glass doors of the hotel. He glanced back at the sign, ‘Hotel Mariano’ the ‘O’s were blacked out marks where the metal letters were welded on once. The orange street lamps gave his face angular shadows. His forehead jutted out at night. It reminded her of a gorilla.

Why won’t you talk to me about it?

Just drop it, Emily, won’t you?

And now we’re just going to the party and pretending everything is normal?

Everything is normal.

You don’t even know what –

Just drop it. Please. I don’t want to know.

Do you even care?

I do. 

She dropped it.

Is Your Blog ‘Personal’?

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The fact of the matter is, I don’t think I would want my mother to read this blog.

I’ve talked to my mother about this blog, and about blogging, but she hasn’t expressed interest in reading it, and I have never offered to have her read it. I have written things here that she might not completely understand or might disapprove of, and, unknowingly, because I am writing into the bottomless void that is the internet, I have been very honest with myself here.

This means that if people from my everyday life were to find this blog, I would feel a little vulnerable and laid bare.

The reason I am writing this now is because somebody from my real life has found this blog. They kindly let me know they found it, and apologised for reading it because they knew I would be mortified. They assured me they didn’t read any further when they realised I might not like them to read, which I appreciated greatly.

I did feel a little shaky and suddenly not so comfortable.

It’s funny.

It’s like somebody found my personal diary. But this isn’t what I would call a personal diary.

I feel exposed and as though somebody has looked deeper inside my emotional exoskeleton. Which is an odd feeling to have because this is a public place so anybody, really, can see it. Except I am probably assuming that nobody I know will see it, therefore allowing myself a little more freedom of expression. Isn’t that peculiar? That I would tell complete strangers things I wouldn’t dream of telling people I know?

Obviously I removed a post. It was a post I was a little dubious about writing because it really did come from a deep, dark place inside me and I am not comfortable about having somebody I know come across that.

I guess this was a niggle for me. It still is a niggle for me. I contemplated changing my blog, but the reality of it is that I don’t really want to start a new blog. I like this blog. I have been blogging here for two years now, and the empty ‘New Post’ place has become a place of inspiration and literary brainstorming.

What do you think about privacy and being emotionally honest? Do you share your blog with your family and friends? Or do you do what I do, and keep it to yourself, as it is more ‘private’ (ironic since you’re posting on a public domain!)?