Thy name is Martin. . .
Since I realized that he had been reading my blog, it's been very hard to sit down and pour out my feelings. It's not as though I was ever a terribly consistent blogger. Lately however, as subject matter would pop into my head, I've been immediately shooting it down, knowing that some tasty tidbit, some delicious detail should not be shared.
Understand that I kept my dating (or rather weak attempt thereof) under wraps from all of you for two months. There are a multitude of other bloggable events that I didn't pass on, sometimes because I wasn't sure it's suited for my audience (all seven of you) or I simply forgot as time passed by in my whirlwind of a life. But in the week since my discovery, those stories sit in my head, nagging me to let them out. Whether appropriate for human consumption or not, they crowd my brain, reminding me that I installed a new filter and it might just be too strong.
So over the coming weeks, I hope to re-open myself to you. If I wrote from my heart before I knew he was reading, I should do the same now. But if you see this turning into my food diary, be sure to remind me that my juicy morsels should be more than culinary.