Even with the complete lack of privacy nowadays, where anyone who is curious can find out every little thing about you, THANKS Facebook and Twitter, one thing will always remain private: A diary.
Wait, let me rephrase that: one thing should always remain private: A diary.
File this in the DUH category: Diaries are not meant for other people to read. They used to come with tiny LOCKS for Christ’s sake.
The reason they are so private is because a diary is the one place where someone can write their deep dark secrets and true emotions without fear of anyone else reading it.
(Unlike an email, the words are not meant to be shared or copied and pasted…or read by Big Brother.)
Which is exactly why some guys really, really want to read them: The diary knows everything.
Is she cheating??? Does she like my best friend? Am I really the best lover in the world?
I know these are all deep burning questions and it’s super tempting to search for the answers in handwritten pages.
But, it’s never, ever, ever OK to read your significant other’s diary, even if it’s sitting in front of you like candy.
Worse than reading someone’s diary that’s sitting in front of you like candy? Scouring someone’s entire house to find it.
That certainly was Steven’s mission when he combed through my friend Abby’s house when she was out of town.
Steven knew Abby had a diary, because when they dated SEVERAL YEARS PRIOR, he was always insecure about it.
Abby has filled four diaries since 1994, regularly writing down her thoughts and emotions and everything else she wants kept between her, herself and her.
Steven and Abby reconnected four years after they broke up, and they both decided there was no reason why they couldn’t be friends, even though it wasn’t a very nice breakup.
They liked each other’s company and it had been FOUR YEARS, so Abby thought they could water-under-the-bridge-it.
But, Steven, naturally, wanted to be more than friends. Abby said he began asking her uncomfortable questions every few weeks like, “Would you ever marry a guy like me?” “Do you enjoy being with me?”
And then the more obvious: “I love you, can we make it official?”
Every time, Abby responded with no.
Steven didn’t seem fazed by her response, and they continued to be friends. When Abby went on vacation to New York last week, she even let Steven house/dog sit.
Before leaving for New York, she decided to hide her diaries from their usual spot on her bedside table to INSIDE A BACKPACK IN THE BACK OF HER CLOSET BETWEEN TWO WINTER COATS, since Steven was staying at her house and he knew they existed.
When Abby returned from New York, she walked into her house in horror to find that the entire place was spotless.
Steven had done some cleaning while she was gone. He cut the grass, he repainted the outside trim…and he tidied up her closet.
Steven hadn’t said anything about finding her dairies when they spoke, but Abby noticed quickly upon her return that he started acting completely strange…like someone who had read her diaries from 1994.
And she nervously checked her closet and noticed that the backpack did look a little…straighter than before.
Abby was suspicious. And it didn’t take long to do some probing about why he decided to clean the house so thoroughly and why he decided to clean the closet, when Steven broke down and admitted his guilt.
He used the unwelcomed cleaning as an excuse, saying he wasn’t looking specifically for them.
But apparently, he felt that if he found them, IN A BACKPACK IN THE BACK OF HER CLOSET BETWEEN TWO WINTER COATS, he had full right to read them.
“Even if you found it doesn’t give you an excuse to read it!” Abby yelled.
Yet, Steven’s plan ended up backfiring. Because, another reason not to seek out – and then read—someone’s diary, aside from the obvious invasion of privacy, is you might not like what you read.
“There was a single paragraph blurb about how he has a big belly and a small dick and was totally unsatisfying on so many levels,” Abby recalls.
“But that’s OK, karma’s a bitch he also read pages upon pages of hot sexy fun times with others. Needless to say we aren’t talking.”
Damn. Haha. That’s going to be a good entry.