How fucking cute was that? :)
Anyway, here’s the backstory, if you’re interested…
When I started writing here, there was no reason to tell J. I didn’t think we’d have anything more than a casual relationship, and I certainly didn’t imagine I’d have any reason to keep up the blog as long as I have.
But it happened. It got serious. As things with J got more serious, the stuff I wrote about got more serious too.
When I realized what was happening, I figured I should tell him, but I didn’t want to. It’s not that I wanted to keep my thoughts to myself (obviously, as my blog is public and I enjoy having a readership), but I wanted to keep some of them from him. Despite pop psychology, I don’t believe every feeling should be shared, particularly when the feeling is out of proportion, misdirected, or misunderstood. Some feelings need processed, and this is where I do it. Besides that, sharing feelings (especially raw ones), is overwhelming — both for the person sharing and for the person being shared with.
But of course, J was bound to find me sooner or later, and about a month ago, I began to suspect that he had.
After monitoring my stats for a couple of weeks, I was sure of it. Part of me was relieved — I didn’t have to tell him because he had found it on his own.
He knew about the blog and I knew he was reading, but neither one of us wanted to admit it to the other. I didn’t know what to say (Uh, hey, so what did you think of my last blog post?) and neither did he. I never told him about the blog, and so he assumed I didn’t want him to know.
Ultimately, I didn’t want to keep him in the position of secretly reading without knowing whether I was okay with it or not. I didn’t want him to feel guilty or conflicted about reading what’s here. As I’ve said before, I think it’s too much to make someone aware that they’re being written about and then expect them not to read.
So, I had to let him know that I knew that he knew (did you follow that?!? No? Let me try that again…). I had to tell him that I was aware he was reading.
I thought about using the opportunity to fuck with him. :) I could post something about falling in love with a potato farmer and my decision to move to Idaho so we could spend the rest of our lives together growing tubers and making sweet, sweet potato pancakes. Or, I could post something about wanting to demand that J and I get matching Justin Bieber tattoos. Or, I could admit to having a secret sea creature fetish and discuss my plans to stick him in a bathtub full of piranhas before I shove an electric eel up his ass…
I couldn’t decide on something believable that wouldn’t be emotionally scarring, so instead, I just called him out and waited to see if he responded.
After a anxious and anticlimactic wait, he finally saw the blog post and left a comment to announce his presence.
In the phone call that followed, J explained he stumbled on the blog via a link on someone else’s website. He read through a couple of posts, noticed a few things that sounded familiar, but didn’t give it much thought at the time. He returned a day later, saw more similarities, and thought he must have a lot in common with “J.” When he visited the site a third time, he read more and more until he finally realized he didn’t just have a lot in common with J… he was J.
He was surprised to learn I’ve been writing here for so long, but he wasn’t upset with anything he read. There isn’t much he didn’t already know about, more or less. Of course, some of my reflections and exorcisms of raw, unprocessed emotions were new to him, but they weren’t surprising. More than anything else, he was unsure of what to do with his new-found awareness.
Of course, that didn’t stop him from reading. :) I don’t blame him for that, nor am I upset with him for it.
Honestly, I hope he’s read every single word. There’s no way he could read what I’ve written here and not know that I love him, not know that he’s the object of my obsession, or not know how much I enjoy loving him and hurting him and fucking him into beautiful little pieces.
Going forward, I’m not sure what (if anything) this means for the blog. Knowing J is reading does change things, but I’m not sure how much it will impact how I write and what I write about.
What won’t change is J’s (lack of) participation here. Aside from being the subject of my ramblings and the object of my
love and affection lust and obsession, he won’t have a presence here. The blog is mine — not ours — so don’t expect to hear from him. At some later date, I may give him the opportunity to write a post or two (actually, asking him to respond to reader questions might be fun!), but for now, J’s participation will be limited to lurking only.
It’s okay. This isn’t the first time I’ve told him to shut up and just look pretty… :)