Confessions

I did it. I told The Rocker about WCC...

I had been asking The Trusted all week about what I should do about The Rocker. Here was a guy I actually liked. Really liked. The impossible had happened. Just 3 short months ago I was talking to The Street Artist about how it would be impossible for Carrie to fall in love. Yet here I was, only a few dates in and I've been reduced into a silly doe eyed girl.

I needed to tell him. I wanted to tell him. But I couldn't figure out if it was the right thing to do. I mean, The Creeper completely freaked when I shared it with him. To this day Partyboy has been scouring the pages of Blogspot trying to find it. Thank goodness that boy isn't all that bright. If he ever found this he would hate me for sure.




I didn't want The Rocker to hate me. I needed to figure out a way to share it with him without actually..well...sharing. I spent the entire weekend running different speeches through my head. In the end, The Rocker took the decision away from me.



He called me Sunday night once he got home from Vegas. It had took him 10 hours to get home and he was not in the best of moods. I wasn't planning on telling him. Honestly I had been hoping to tell him in person. I hoped that my sexual presence would help soften the blow. But we got to talking and he asked me what I had been doing all day.



"Writing." I responded.



"Oh yeah. You write. And what exactly do you write about," he asks me.



"My life," I reply.



"Have you written about me," he asks, not realizing he was hitting the damn nail on the head.



"Yes, that's what I was working on today. I've been writing about our last date."



"So what exactly do you do with the stuff you write," he finally asks.

Crap! This is it. I have to tell him. I don't want to lie. I don't want to avoid his question and omit. I have to say it.

"Well, I eventually want to make it into a book, but for now I'm sort of..." here I go..." blogging out the pages and allowing my fans to help shape the stories."


 It's done. No going back now. I hear silence on the other end of the phone. Shit.



"Ok," he finally says. "So you write about the people you date?"



"Yes, but everyone is anonymous. Even myself. That's why I told you that my name was Carrie when we first met. That's my characters name. No one knows who you are or who my friends are..." Ugh. I'm over explaining. This isn't going the way I planned.



"Ok," he says again.


 He's repeating himself, this can't be good.



"Look," I tell him. "I'd love for you to read it. It's not what you think. When I see you next, I'll show it to you."



"I don't think I can wait that long. I've got to see this for myself," he says to me.



"No," I tell him. "Not yet please! Promise me you won't read it?"



"Ok, I won't," he tells me. I can hear the strain in his voice. He's tired and stressed and frustrated from his weekend and here I am dropping the WCC bomb on him. What the hell is wrong with me?!



"Look, I need to take a shower and get ready for work tomorrow. Can I call you later? Would that be ok? Or is it to late?" he asks me.



Part of me wants to say no. I know he's not happy with me and I'm terrified that I won't hear from him again. But I know he's on overload right now. I need to leave him be. Let him 'absorb' what I just told him and give him a chance to separate this new anxiety from his shitty weekend.



"Ok. It won't be too late. Just call me back ok?" I say. I know how desperate I sound, but I can't help myself.



Needless to say, I didn't hear from him again that night. I didn't try to call. He needed space and sleep so I intended on giving it to him.



I was off the next day. I send him a text first thing in the morning.



"I hope you have a better day today than you did yesterday. Hopefully you got some sleep."



He doesn't respond. The entire day goes by with silence. It was torture. My sense of dread was overpowering. He was freaked. Like an idiot, I blurbed out my secret and he couldn't handle it. Didn't want to deal with it. He hates me.



Ok, I know I'm being a little irrational. I mean The Rocker and I have a real connection. He wouldn't, couldn't just not talk to me again right? I mean that boy is just like me. So what would I do in this situation? Well, even if I didn't want to deal with the other person anymore, I would still call. Atleast once. To say goodbye.



Great. Now I feel worse.



Finally 6pm rolls around. I know that's the normal time he gets off work. I call him. It goes straight to voicemail.



"Hey its me," I begin, hoping I don't sound as pathetic as I feel. "I was just calling to make sure you didn't go off on anyone at work today." (insert manic giggle) "Give me a call when you get a chance. Bye."



Ok, done. I called, now drop it.



But I can't. 10pm rolls around. We have never gone this long without speaking to each other! I mean atleast a text. Now I'm freaked. Could this be it? Did I really find my Cool Rider just to lose him because of Carrie? How awful would that be? I mean WCC was my savior. She is who and what helped me get through the last few months with my sanity in tact. She helped me work through the pain of my last breakup and she's the one who helped me tolerate the trials and tribulations of dating life. How awful would it be for her to also be the reason I lose the one man that I could actually care about?



At around 11pm, my phone finally rings. It's The Rocker.




"Hello?!" I say, not caring that I sound like a worried mother.





"Hi, how are you?" he responds.






Yep. I'm in trouble. I can feel his distance. This is bad.



"Well, not so great. I was a little worried you wouldn't call me back," I finally say.



"Yeah, sorry about that. I actually just got off of work about an hour ago," he starts off slowly. "And honestly I've been sort of tripping out on the whole blog thing. I wasn't sure if I was going to call you back either"



Shit. I hate being right. Part of me was hoping I was being paranoid all day. That he was simply busy at work and still tired and stressed from the weekend and didn't have any time to get back to me. I should have known better. I'm West Coast Carrie. Knowing what people are feeling and what they will do next is my specialty. I pay attention. I take note. I predict and I'm usually right. This time around, I wish I hadn't been.



"I know. I'm so sorry for just springing it on you like that. I was hoping to tell you in person," I tell him.



I can barely breath. This is it, I just know it. He's going to tell me he doesn't want to speak to me anymore. I can feel it. I know it, I know it. I feel like someone is sitting on my chest. I can barely breath! It happened. I found my Cool Rider and in under two weeks I lost him. Unfucking believable.



What now? I guess I keep trucking along just like I have been. Keep dating, keep writing, stay single. I mean, have you ever heard of a married Super Hero? Me either. This is the way its supposed to be. Single and free that's me. That's my destiny. I need to let this one go.



This calms me a bit. I still feel like something crawled into my chest to die, but I'm aware of it and I'm dealing. All I can do now is get through this conversation without holding back. I need to say anything and everything that comes to mind and then move on and try to heal from the latest and greatest disappointment in my life.




"Yeah, look. I have questions," he tells me coldly. "So this blog. What is it exactly? I mean what are you writing? What are your intentions? Is it about you?"




I begin to speak without thinking. I can't remember exactly what I said anymore. I mean I was so upset. But it was something along the lines of the following...



"How it started and what it's become are two different things. I mean at first it was just about dating. It was about the guys I met and what I thought of them at the time. I was just coming out of a bad break up and it was a way for me to heal. I was cold and distant and didn't really give a shit, and I wrote it that way. But then something happened," I pause for a moment thinking it out.



"Well two things happened actually. For one the fans started to really love the friends that I wrote about. They started to get invested in Carrie's life, not just the boys. So I started writing about that. And the more I did the more I started to love my life and my friends and ME more. Before I knew it I wasn't writing what 'I' was feeling and thinking as much as letting 'Carrie' write about what she thought. Because I'm not WCC. Not anymore. There's me and there's her. The events I write about are all true but what I say I think and feel about them aren't always in line with who I am. I allow Carrie to insert her inner monologue."


"So you just go out and stuff so you have fodder for your stories?" The Rocker asks me.



The dying animal in my chest twitches a bit. But I keep going. If this is the last time I speak to him I'm going to make sure I say everything that I need to.



"Not necessarily," I say. "Most of the time I'm just living my life and then I write about it. I'm a real person. These are real experiences. I mean if anything, I will admit that if it wasn't for WCC I wouldn't be dating at all. I've been ok being on my own. I feel good just being me and hanging with my LA family. I keep dating for the fans, but the experiences and what I put into it are real. I'm real. I live. I feel. I write. That's it."



I've finished my rant. I don't know what else to say. This is it. I can't breath. The Rocker is silent for a long time. I stay quiet as well. The ball is in his court and I resign myself to go with whatever he decides.



In my head I think, "I would give it up. I would give up WCC. For you." I mean, why would I choose writing over him? Isn't that the point of WCC? Isn't that why I started all of this? Aren't I supposed to be "Braving the LA dating scene to help her readers avoid the dicks and shits of the opposite sex"?



I think I've mixed up my own purpose. I haven't been true to my word. I lied to you dear reader. I haven't been avoiding the dicks and shits. I've been dating every single one that I find. I haven't been very helpful at all.



And now I found what I've truly been looking for. I've found a Cool Rider. In LA. Its unbelievable. And now I'm fucking it up.



I hear The Rocker take a deep breath. This is it.



"This is crazy," he starts off. "I mean before I left to Vegas, and the entire weekend I've been on cloud fucking nine. I was so excited about you and us. I was missing you so much. I even came close to asking you to come out and stay with me Saturday night. But then you told me about this blog shit and it all came crashing down... But as low as I felt all day, the opposite just happened. I don't know how you fucking did it but you just flipped it on me again. You said what I needed to hear and unbelievably I feel better."



I'm stunned! I'm not sure what to say. I'm not sure what he just said. I mean it sounds like all of a sudden he feels better about the situation, but its all just to good to be true! I won't allow myself to believe it until I make sure.



"Wait, so we're ok?" I ask tentatively.



"Yeah," he says. "But now there is something that I need to tell you. I broke a promise to you, and now after this I feel like shit about it."



My blood runs cold. What promise? Why does he sound so grave? I mean we haven't known each other long enough for him to be able to do something so bad that it could hurt me...Right? I mean did he like sleep with another chick or something? Would that bother me? No, not really. I mean we're just dating and he's free to do whatever he wants. I could move pass that no problem. So what else could it be?



Then he said it.




"I read your blog."



My face goes blank. My mind goes blank. He read it? My blog? Which one? Oh god...



"What do you mean you read it?" I begin. "How?"



"Well, I typed in the words Mr. Boston, The Rocker and Carrie and I found it," he says.



Yep. This boy is a bright one. I had mentioned that I called my roommate Mr Boston only once. I had called him The Rocker a few times as well, and I had first introduced myself as Carrie. Shit.



"I'm sorry. I was upset last night so I went online and had to find it," he says, mistaking my silence for anger.



"Oh my god seriously?!" I respond.



I feel like someone just read my diary. This has never happened before! I've never had someone who I was dating and still interested in read my work. My face goes completely red.



"Which one did you read?" I ask him, not really wanting to hear the answer.



"Um, just the ones that mentioned me. The Rocker, Boomerang and what was it called...oh yeah, Nip Tuck."



The last title makes my blood run cold again. He read Nip Tuck! Just shoot me in the fucking face why don't you?! Oh god seriously? Its been months of pure innocence between Partyboy and I and the one time I decide to be a mischievous little asshole The Rocker reads it! It's official. God hates me.



"You didn't," I squeal at him. " Oh god, please let me explain...Look, I was going to tell you about the whole Partyboy thing. It's just you and I have only been on a couple of dates and..."



"It's ok," he interrupts me. "Look it's fine. We both had relationships before we met each other, I know that. It's not a big deal. I mean, I kind of felt like something was up the other night. But I couldn't figure out what. But its not a big deal. Its funny, I read what you wrote about me and honestly I couldn't find anything wrong with it. I mean you write me very flatteringly. And I have to say your fucking memory is insane! You don't write everything but the way you pick out the highlights of the night is really impressive."



I start to breath a little. He doesn't sound upset. He sounds honest and ok. But I still can't believe that the worse is over.



Then I realized something. He had been testing me. He already knew what my blog was all about before he had asked me. He had been drilling me to see if I would lie.



"Wait, so if you already knew what my blog was about why did you ask me?" I ask anyways.



"Sorry about that. I feel like a total dick about it now. Its just that yesterday I was really upset about the whole thing and I couldn't figure out why. But now I know what it is. You made me feel like what you and I had was fake. Like it was all an act so that you would have something to write for your blog. I almost didn't call you back. But then you sent that message this moring saying how you hoped I was having a good day and I was like, 'Maybe she is real. Maybe she is nice. Maybe this isn't fake.' I figured the least I could do was call you and get some answers to my questions. I didn't think we would be ok. But we are. Better than ok actually. Again I don't know how you managed it but I'm good. I guess I didn't expect you to be so honest and forth coming about it all. But you were. I shouldn't have expected anything less from you. But I did and I'm sorry"



Wow. Like I said, I'm not sure exactly what I said but he's right. I was honest. I laid it out for him. Not because I was hoping he would keep seeing me. I had thought the chances of that happening were gone so not once did I answer him in a way that could be mistaken as defending myself or WCC. I answered honestly because that's who I am. I'm me all the time. I'm honest to a fault and it was hard keeping this from him. Because I cared. WCC actually gave a shit about this guy.



"Look, I wanted to tell you in another way, but it just sort of happened last night," I say. "I wanted to tell you in person but you asked and I wanted to tell you sooner rather than later."



"No, I get it," he says. "I mean what were you supposed to do? Have me sign a waiver the first time we met at your doorstep."



I laugh a little. Not much. I was so sure that we were done. I know he's telling me not to worry. We're making jokes and still talking. But I could tell how upset he was earlier. I find it hard to believe that he would be able to just let this go. I mean I think he believes he can, but I don't know him well enough to have faith that he won't wake up and change his mind.



We chit chat a bit more about the blog and what I wrote. He gives me a few more compliments about my writing style. He tells me how engaging it is and funny. I laugh along the whole time still filled with anxiety.



"So are you feeling better now," he asks me after a bit.



"No," I tell him. "I'm pretty traumatized actually."



"Why," he asks sounding genuinely concerned.



"I just thought this was it. It's hard to let go of that feeling," I say.



"Look, again, I'm so sorry for putting you through this. But I mean it. I'm good. We're good. I feel the same if not better about us and you. So don't be upset ok?" He tells me.



This makes me feel a bit better. But not much.



"Ok, you need to come over soon. I need to be held. Badly," I tell him.



He laughs and agrees. We finally hang up.




I did it. I told him my secret and we made it through. I can't believe it.



And we're ok. We've seen each other almost everyday since I told him who I was. And its been wonderful.



It happened. I told him and I'm still here. I'm still writing. I didn't loose him and you didn't loose me.



But now I know how to handle myself in the future. Going forward WCC stays in the dark. Underground. Where she belongs and where only you can find her dear reader.

This Super Hero has learned her lesson. I need to protect her and me. I need to keep writing. Keep helping. Keep entertaining. Stay secret and present and utterly anonymous.

The Rocker knows. Who I am and what I think of him. He knows he's my Cool Rider. I hope he's ready for the ride. I know I am.

Move over Rocker, because Carrie likes to drive.

WCC