To tell or not to tell Triple S
I have been eating insanely since this morning. There is now no longer a Dunkin Donuts box filled with Boston Cremes on my dining table, and little trace remains of the chocolate mousse cake my mother in law brought with her when she delivered the jora. I am fast becoming a hog- bichara Triple S .
That’s my new name for him. Triple S. Although I have no issue with maintaining un-anonymity for myself, I doubt he’d like random insane googlers to type his name and come up with my blog where I’ve put up various random dumb things about me, him, our families etc along with my opinions. What would the muashira say? “Triple S, your fiancée is a psycho?” or worse… “Hey Triple S…I know what your fiancée was thinking/ doing/ ranting about a few days ago…” True, it’d be harmless but when someone goes up to you and says something like that in an insinuating voice obviously you assume the worst. Especially if you’re male. Or female. Or both.
No, I can’t risk it. No one shall know his real name. No one. Bwa ha ha.
Except the people I’ve already told. Ek tau mera munh band nahi hota 😦
You know I could fix the problem if I just told him about my blog- it’s not like he doesn’t know I have one. If he was one of those insane googlers he’d have found it by now himself. But I doubt he is or he’d have let some incriminating bit of detail slip just to show me he knew. That’s what I would have done. And then laughed when he fumbled around for an explanation. And after that I’d say “Arey, you have a blog? I just guessed that [embarrassing fact] about you because I’m psychic.” And then he’d never stray from the straight and narrow because he’d be afraid I’d find out clairvoyantly.
BUT if I did tell him about my blog he’d probably live on it. Read all my previous posts…find out what an emotional train wreck I am…laugh at my childishness and naivete…maybe even (gasp*) pick fights with me on my very own blog…the horror! Or pick fights with people who visit my blog. If he was the insane googler plus Glenn Close type he might even find out where they live and set their houses on fire.
No, I can’t risk telling him about my blog either.
After much deliberation I’ve come to the following conclusion:
It must suck to have a fiancée like me 😀