Up to a few weeks ago, I used to say that whoever enters into my life must accept that I am a writer and will express myself in writing. That means I would write whatever I have to, no matter what is said about them. But with time and new experiences, beliefs change.
I’ve been seeing this guy for a month now, and it’s been quite great. And I like him so much, that what we have feels sacred. He is special to me, and I don’t want to do anything to fuck it up. That include being hesitant from writing about him, about us, because there is a lingering feeling of ‘wrongness’ to write about something so sacred.
The second of the ten commandments in the Catholic religion is “Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain,” and that’s how I feel about this guy. I shouldn’t be revealing this thing I have with him to the world. I want to keep him to myself, and to not expose him to the world in the intimate way poetry does, because, he is the most intimate part of my life.
I never really felt like this with anyone before. Perhaps I don’t want any of my words to affect what we have now or in the future. But this blog post, as anonymous and secretive as it is, is my first step to writing about him in public, and I acknowledge that he could be reading this. And I know in the future, I’ll succumb to writing more deeply about him, and all the things he makes me feel. For now, he’ll be my secret to cherish.