Saturday, October 24, 2009


This past year has been a rollercoaster. An emotional rollercoaster – if you will.

I started this blog to chronicle a big step in my life – moving in with a man who I consider my best friend. I never expected that along with a big move, I’d be forced into a big career change which I’m still trying to figure out and piece together.

I’m not good with change. I never have been. But I do a damn good job pretending that I believe things will fall into place, while inside I’m scared as hell about what’s going to happen next.

While my career goals and objectives are up in the air dangling over me as I sleep, eat and breathe, the “big move” can be celebrated as a success. We just passed the one year mark and no one has packed a bag to leave. We haven’t yelled “I hate you!,” we still hold hands, we still share kisses and special moments together doing absolutely nothing. Deep down, I always thought that if we survived as friends through my years and years of uncertainty regarding our relationship status, surely we could live together without going at each others’ throats. Now don’t get me wrong, we’ve had our share of disagreements which led to silent days and nights. But that’s all a part of the process of getting to know each other a little deeper. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring – whether we’ll stay together or part ways without exploring the full potential of our relationship. It's hard to predict stuff like that, especially since forever means different things to different people.

About a month ago, my honey told me that he found my blog. The circumstances under which he exposed this to me were convenient – for him at least – but I don’t want to digress. He said he read something and it hurt him in a couple ways. And that hurt me. I’ve blogged for many years at various web addresses, so I’m not entirely sure if he saw this blog or another blog from a while back. I’m almost certain it was this one. I didn’t ask. Part of me doesn’t want to know which post or posts he read, because then guilt will make me feel like I need to somehow explain what I wrote. And I 100% don’t feel like I should have to explain something that I didn't invite him to read. I never gave him my blog address. Only a few of my close friends have it and people who have come across it randomly. No family members have it. So, I’m not sure how his eyes landed on my page. Something tells me he didn't have a random stumble. I hope he at least appreciates the raw emotion that I share here. I can’t and won’t apologize for any emotion I’ve ever expressed here. I meant everything I said when I said it.

Once I found out that he read the blog, I searched post after post racking my brain trying to figure out what he saw. I even turned some of my posts into drafts to prevent any further reading and hurt feelings. I wondered if I allowed too many of our personal details to float into the hands of strangers and friends alike. I wondered if he was still reading the posts or if he decided not to venture back into my domain. I wondered if I crossed the line. And I did.

It’s one thing to share your own life on the internet, but when you start sharing details of another person’s life, it can be problematic. Nothing would thrill me more than to find out he was blogging about me. I’d probably end up hastily typing a blog post expressing my dissatisfaction if that happened.

So I thought well maybe, I’ll just post about the good things and keep the over-the-top, overly emotional details to myself. But that wouldn’t be true to the experience. You take the good and you take the bad and mesh them up into a ball of realness. Take one out of the equation and you’re essentially representing a lie. My heart would never find resolve in that.

Then I had the thought to brand the blog a little differently and totally take all personal aspects out of it, but still focus on the idea of sharing a house. But that idea failed in my mind over and over again. Again, it wouldn’t be true to how the blog started or how I ever envisioned it. And what’s more, it wouldn’t be true to what I’m interested in at this moment in my life.

And then I thought some more and concluded, I’m so much more than this moving experience. I’m so much more than playing house with someone.

So with all things considered, this will be my last post here. And in the most dramatic fashion, I had to write this long explanation as to why. So I’m starting fresh, and if you’d like to follow along for the journey, I’m here And if not, well that’s fine, too.

I can’t promise I’ll post every day. I can’t promise that each post will be entertaining. I can’t promise that I won’t spend over a thousand words expressing my frustration with things. I can’t promise I won’t blog about business. I can’t promise I won’t blog about Britney Spears and I can’t promise I won’t post gossip or that I won’t post pictures of Winston doing cute things. But I can promise that I won’t post about playing house...unless of course, there’s a story about a proposal and a shiny ring, but I've never been in the business of holding my breath ;)

Thanks for reading.



Stealing isn't polite!

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