He's coming around, that husband of mine.
I imagine it is hard for him to be married to me. I'm kind of loud and just say things, even when I probably shouldn't. I tell more than I should and I have a great deal of enthusiasm for things I probably shouldn't.
I married a quiet man. Funny and kind and smart. But quiet.
I didn't tell him at first about this blog because I figured he would freak out. When I finally did tell him, he didn't. I don't know if he liked it, but he didn't freak out.
As things move on and progress, I find myself worrying more and more about him. How he feels about having his life on display.
Lately we've been talking. I've been dreaming what-if's. I finally told him what the book I've been querying is all about. And what the next book will be about. Which is, basically, him.
And he was okay.
He cares more about my dreams than he does his own privacy.
He knows I will protect him.
He knows that I know where to draw the line.
He trusts me.
And I love him.