I did NOT just do that...

So, of course the new boy knows I write. He knows about the blog, and about the book in the works. Since he's so amazing and wants to know everything about me (scary, I know...he's already been warned), he says he'd love to read the blog. I explain to him that people I get involved with on a personal level aren't allowed to read this...that they will inevitably end up here, and I can't have those two worlds collide. I don't ever edit what I say here, and I don't want to start now. I also don't want to have to down play my excitement over a new something I think is really great. It is just too messy.

However, in a gesture of introducing him to my writing, I send him the very first post in an email. I am excited that he'll be able to get a taste without biting off too much. I feel good about this decision. So I hit "send" and watch my message disappear somewhere into the WWW universe.

Later that same day, I receive a text message thanking me for trusting him with my blog. I remember thinking to myself: "wow, he sure is grateful to be able to read one of my posts. What a swell boy I've found."

I get home from work and take Ella out. He meets us by the beach and walks with us, and then we walk back and sit on the front porch, chatting about our days. He compliments my writing, saying it's both intuitive and humorous. Then, he makes a reference to "Brit boy." I immediately feel sick. How do you know about Brit boy, I ask. "It's in the blog," he replies. I know I looked like a deer caught in the headlights. This Abbott and Costello routine continued for a few more minutes, until it's finally revealed that the post I sent him was hyperlinked. To this blog. To all the posts contained here within. About addiction. About croatians. And Brits. I actually wrote: "I wish someone would've warned me the Brits were coming." He read that. All of it. I was mortified. AND HE'S BRITISH!

The good news is that he says he's even more attracted to me after reading such candid accounts of my life. The bad news is...everything else. He read it...all. I have no guard. It's all down. It's been stripped. He knows my weaknesses. I lay totally vulnerable. Exposed. My emotions are on the table like a science experiment. Only this experiment has gone horribly wrong.

He's been awesome, promising to not read what I write here. To take a hiatus. In the back of my mind, though, I know. He knows. And with a click of the mouse, will continue to know. What I think of us. Of him. Of my past. Of my future.

Coming to these conclusions, I thought I would be more upset than I actually am. Truth be told, I am more honest with him than anyone I've ever known. He knows how I feel about everything. He knows my past. And I know his. So, with that in mind, I will continue to write here like I always do. And, hope he continues to feel the same way. And, if not, I guess he'll have a really easy way to find out!