I’ve got stuff to say.
But I can’t say it.
When I started blogging, I had no idea who would be reading it. I was free to write whatever popped into my head. Mean, unflattering, profane, graphic, whatever I thought, I could say it.
As weeks and posts progressed, I started developing relationships with the people who read my blog, and began to read their blogs.
This presents a problem.
I can’t write my most intimate ugly thoughts when the people who read them may be coming to my house for dinner, chatting with me on facebook, or hanging out with my parents. Even if we never, ever meet, the developing relationship prohibits me from airing out of sheer propriety. Especially to those of you who aren’t even legal!
So here we are.
Some of you have read from the beginning and know it all. I still have a hard time baring it all to you, because that was in the “past.” Like reading a novel. Some of you have just jumped in at various stages of this journey, and have only seen the hearts and flowers. Reading what I want to write at this moment may send you to your Bishop. (which, by the way, reminds me of something that happened at spin class last week. . . Which I also cannot post because I’m being all proper and stuff.)
I can’t talk to Husband- he’s been down this road with me so many times, and there have been no solutions in all of our other 8,000 conversations, so what makes me think that a solution will magically appear THIS time? Besides, it hurts him. We don’t need any more of that.
You know, I’ve already got a watered-down version of my life on my “other” blog. If this becomes any more like that one, ONE of them will become obsolete. On second thought, I don’t have the liberty to discuss “the gay” on my “other” blog, so this blog will always have a purpose.
Evolution. I don’t like it.
I’m just disappointed, that’s all.
(and quite a bit “FRUSTRATED”)