More Shit, Different Fan

Last night…

I was half asleep when JJ said, “I don’t want you posting online about our lives anymore.”

I heard enough of that to fully wake. “What? Say that again.”

He repeated it, and then added, “It makes me uncomfortable. I don’t want people knowing that much about me.” 

I drew back enough so I could look at him. “Babe, ‘JJ’ isn’t your name or even your initials. I’ve never talked about the school where you work or related any of the often hilarious stories you tell me about your kids, however much I’ve been tempted.”

“I know, and I appreciate that, but you’re pretty free with the rest of my life. The gray hair?” He raised an eyebrow. “How about when we went camping? I mean, everything about me is fair game and I don’t like it. And what would your mom think of you telling everyone about her brain tumor?”

“Uh…the whole point of a blog is to reveal yourself to others. Otherwise, why bother?”

“Then reveal you, not me.” He fussily pulled the blankets higher. “I don’t want any part of it.”

“Babe, you’re part of my life. I can’t leave you out.” I rolled onto my back, upset with his declaration. “You never used to read my stuff, much less AJ’s. When did that change?”

“I got curious. I wanted to see what you were posting.” He moved onto his side, staring down at me. “AJ was an afterthought. I found the link on your blog and clicked. I was curious about how things were going with Connor.”

“What, so yesterday was the first time you’ve been on either blog?”

“No. I started reading last week. AJ’s mysterious post yesterday? It’s not the first time he’s talked about you.”

“I know. I told you, I’m aware.” I sat up, as did he. “The timing between him and me was never right.”

“So you said in an early entry.”

He’d read it all then. An unpleasant tingle went through me. “I would’ve talked to you about this but you’ve always been so jealous of him.”

His voice went up a notch. “And with good reason, I see.”

“Hey! I’ve never done anything with him while I’ve been with you. Not even a kiss, so don’t even fucking go there.” So much  for using our inside voices. 

“But instead of talking to me about it, you put it on the internet. What the hell, Fen.” He got out of bed and stomped into the bathroom, not even flipping on the light as he pissed. 

That was so unlike him, that I commented. “You’re going to make the toilet and floor wet, doing that in the dark.”

“I don’t give a fuck!” 

When he returned, he didn’t get back into bed. He stood beside it, glaring; I could see his hard eyes and the set of his mouth in the moonlight.

We stared at each other for a long moment before I said, “I’m a writer. It’s what I do. I take what happens in our life, fictionalize it, and put it online.”

“So you’re going to keep doing that? Even though I’m telling you not to?”

“Telling? You’re telling me?” I started shaking my head. “No one tells me anything. You’re not my goddamn parent.”

“That’s right, but I am your partner. My opinion should matter, and I’m asking you to knock it off.”

“And I’m telling you I won’t. It’s what I do, damn it. No one reading knows who you are or ever will, if that’s what’s bugging the crap out of you.”

“What’s bothering me is all this stuff online that I never heard about, that you never discussed with me. It’s like you have this secret fucking life that only you and your readers get to know about. Oh, and let’s not forget AJ. He knows about it, too.” He grabbed his pillow. “I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“Fine!” I yelled as he slammed the bedroom door behind him.


When I finally woke up this morning, he was gone.


About Fenraven

Fenraven happily lives in south Florida, where it is really hot most of the year. Find him on Twitter, Google +, and Facebook by searching on 'fenraven'.
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4 Responses to More Shit, Different Fan

  1. gary says:

    Oh, I’m so sorry.

  2. W. Lotus says:

    Ignoring, for a moment, the fact that JJ’s angry words about you sharing him on your blog was a cover for him being upset that you and AJ have a strong emotional connection…

    I have wondered how appropriate it is to share that much about one’s partner in one’s blog. I don’t know if you read my blog, but I don’t share much about Ms. T there or on Facebook, not even on my FB filters. Part of the reason is self-protection: in the (unlikely) event that things go sour with us, the less of her that is in my blog, the better. I learned that when my fiance’ dumped me 3 months before our wedding date long, long ago, in another far-gone era. All of the public crowing I had done for 3 years about being engaged had to be followed by publicly explaining over and over and OVER that no, we were not getting married after all. I vowed to never do that to myself again. It has been 16 years, and I have not broken that promise to myself. So I keep my relationship with Ms. T pretty close to my chest.

    My other reason is this: if I am going to write in a public blog about my life with her, I feel I need to get her permission for each post. I simply don’t feel like I have the right to put that much of her heart out there for public consumption by people she may or may not know. The details of deeply personal conversations? Not without her express permission. It’s like implicit deny in computer access permissions: whatever is not explicitly allowed is denied.

    I said all that to say I find it very interesting to note the difference between your philosophy on sharing your relationship and my relationship on (mostly not) sharing mine. (Believe me, I’m not judging your philosophy, and I am glad you and JJ have reached an understanding about it.)

    • He’s so very much a part of my life that it would be difficult not to write about him. We’ve continued to discuss this issue and he feels better about it than he did. I go only so far when including him in a post, and I’ve been careful to keep his identity (and mine, for that matter) under wraps. I’ve very aware that the internet is full of loonies, and I don’t want one of them knock-knock-knocking at my door. After finally reading my blog, he agrees we are safe in that respect, and also, he sees how much I love him, even when I’m (gently) making fun of him. It’s a side he doesn’t often see.

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