The next morning, my stomach sank as I imagined him reading my deepest thoughts and random ramblings. I felt uncomfortably exposed and considered that I might never hear from him.
On the contrary, he was enamored. Like Scott, he connected with my words, but the writer in him also admired my craft.
His admiration didn't quell the questions. How do I, when do I, address the guy I see twice per week? Where do I draw the line between being honest about my feelings and oversharing too early in the relationship?
Rather than ignore the questions, this time, I asked them. I used the blog as a conduit for more important discussions about what he might be thinking. And though I continue to harbor some fears of rejection and yes, jinxes, I've learned that taking risks can reap great rewards.
Last week, Peter provided me with a much-coveted symbol of his affection: After two months of getting good blog, he gamely gave me a toothbrush.
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