Mary Mary quite contrary, how does your garden grow?

The 20% Russian wants to read the blog.

Minor crisis. Owing less to the fact that it contains stories I wouldn't tell him in their spring technicolour detail. No, I'm standing on the edge, wavering with giving him the address, insomuch as it's handing over transcripts of a Sunday Girls Brunch, and exposing mystery. Granted, when it comes to a new relationship I'm not going to get very far with my seed packets clutched to my gardening apron but on the level, I don't think I'm ready to throw them all down and just trust the sun and rain.

To put it bluntly, this blog doesn't paint me in the most positive light - and I admit it's occasionally done on purpose. Being indulgent with the details is part of my nature, and though I'd like to humor myself and say it's a writing style, if someone was to read this to 'get know me', I'm not sure how honest and reflective some entries would really be. We all have past adventures, and good, bad or ugly, we're a product of a world of collective contributions. Everything we ever experience or encounter has an effect greater than none. So appreciating that, how much are we willing to lay on the table? Clean, bare and labeled for a potentially ruthless evaluation.

I like that he likes me, and the openness, has been astonishingly calming. But in an attempt to maintain this state will I have only my foolish unimpeded nature to blame if his perception, or my coddled written interpretations of my past, come back to bite me? If a relationship's foundations are built on potting soil, ripe seeds, a sunny patch in the garden, pot ash and a watering system can we simply throw down all the seeds and expect the weeds not to fight over the outcome?

Its not about hiding, manipulating or even changing. This is who I am, and I make no apologies for that. But essentially how much is too much and how soon is too soon? And to that effect, I can't help but wonder at the potentially revealing nature of Mary's womanizing answer - Mary Mary quite contrary, how does your garden grow? - With silver bells and cockles shells, And pretty maids all in a row.