So, M knows. August 13, 2007

About the blog.  
 
Last night, after Rock of Love (and, ok, fine I’ll admit it, after the damn Scott Baio show that I don’t even know if I like but has earned a spot on the DVR series pass list anyway), I told him. 
 
Something came over me, a sense of calm (how dramatic am? Omigod, I am so dramatic, but it’s the truth), and I just knew that I could tell him and that it would be okay. 
 
So I did. And it was. 
 
The first words out of his mouth were, “I’m so freaking happy you’re still writing.” He then disclosed that he knew I kept a journal early on in our relationship but that I seemed to have stopped doing so. He was worried that writing was something that he took away from me the bigger a part of my life he became, the more time-consuming our relationship was.  
 
I told him about how many hits a day I get and how I have a band of readers that I love and how, um, I didn’t exactly meet Molly on The Knot but instead through her blog.
 
I told him how I write about him, and us, but how I have taken extra precautions to protect both his privacy and my own.  
 
I asked if he wanted to read the blog, if he wanted the URL, if he wanted to know the title and what I go by. He left it up to me.  
 
And, truth be told, I wouldn’t be one hundred percent comfortable, or honest, if I knew he was reading every day. I would begin to censor myself – something I promised myself I would never do.  
 
So I told him that I would send him some posts that I felt were representative of the blog. He, of course, understood because a) he’s awesome and b) he’s awesome and have I mentioned that c) he’s awesome? He said, “I wouldn’t ever ask to read your journals, so I would never ask to read your blog. Everyone needs something that’s purely their own.”  
 
He was a little taken aback, I think, once he thought it over and realized that I have had a “secret” for two years. He held my face in his hands and looked me in the eye and said, “you know you can tell me anything, right? Anything.” 
 
In response, I told him that, yes, I trust him implicitly, I trust him with my life, but the blog started before he and I were even official and then it just kind of…stayed a secret. I didn’t mean to hurt him and he knows that.  
 
“Is there anything you want to say? On the blog? To my readers?” 
 
“Yes: Hi Axxxx’s readers. I’m M. I’m sure you’re enjoying her writing, as she’s a rock star. I’m so glad she’s writing, as writers need to write and she is certainly a writer even if she does something else for a living. Oh, and please buy her first book when it comes out.”  
 
Sigh. I love him. And I love the feeling of freedom that comes with having told him the only secret, really, I’ve ever kept from him.