Here's something I've told almost no one.
I officially moved out of Ned's house on November 11 last year. Our deal was I'd do it while he was at work. I ended up running late. I had the last load--aka the pets--and we were puling out of the driveway just as Ned was pulling in. Had there been five seconds difference in either of our schedules, this all wouldn't have happened.
We both got out of our cars and ran toward each other. "I'll do anything to fix this relationship," I said, not knowing I was going to say that at all.
"So will I," he said.
So we talked briefly that day, agreed to see a therapist, one who didn't know either of us, and then I turned back to my car (where Edsel had gotten in the driver's seat), and I drove my little pet family to my old/new home, with just a modicum of hope things would work out with Ned.
Now it's 14 months later. We saw The Hairapist, without telling anyone. (She always had different-colored streaks in her hair, so Ned named her The Hairapist.) I loved her.
She helped, but also, you know that part where I dramatically said I'd do anything to save the relationship that night in the glow of our headlights?
Sometimes I reneged on that.
Sometimes I'd get really mad at all the truly, truly rotten stuff that had happened while Ned and I were together, and I'd be all, "I don't need this. This is bullshit." And really, I was right. I mean, I'm totally still on my side on that, there.
So I stopped seeing The Hairapist with him. And I'd block him from my phone. And we went long stretches of time without speaking. I dated 10 other men in these past 14 months. I even kissed one of them. But nothing ever took off. I just never felt very interested.
Ned got on dating sites, too. I saw his punk ass on there once or twice, and I'd block him with an angry flourish.
But the thing is, he always showed up again. I'd check my blocked messages every few weeks and there he'd be. When Tallulah died, I ended up calling him and he spent the night even though he hates my bed. Hurts his back. When Edsel ate Lottie, I called him then, too and he was over in minutes. He's been here with groceries and presents and even screamed over to hunt and kill The World's Largest Cockroach that was on my ceiling one night.
This whole time he hasn't wanted to be broken up even for a minute. And when we were talking these past 14 months, he'd tell me about changes he was making in his life.
For example, one of our problems (we had 99 problems but me being a bitch wasn't one. Okay, that's not remotely true) was that we fought like George and Martha in Who's Afraid of Virgina Woolf. But we've gotten so much better at how to not do that, mostly because Ned got better at it and I followed suit. It almost feel like it'd be impossible to ever fight like that again. I can't even imagine we were ever those people.
So anyway, all spring and all summer I dated, but as the summer turned to fall I found myself deleting my membership on those sites one at a time, and going on fewer dates. I started seeing Ned once in awhile. Finally Ned invited me to go to the beach with him in October, and I knew it could end in disaster, but it ended up being the best vacation, ever.
We decided to give it one more try, in a 90-day, same-as-cash kind of a trial. When the 90 days are up, if it didn't work, hey. At least we gave it EVERY DAMN CHANCE POSSIBLE.
Will we move back in together, ever? I say no. Ned says he can see that happening again.
I still say no. I say not ever.
And let's face it. Dude is never ever gonna marry me. As Donald Trump would say, I know it, you know it, everybody knows it. So part of my 90 days is I have to decide if I can live with the idea that someone is devoted to me but will probably not ever marry me. And I go back and forth on that, man. I do. You know what I'd love? Is if we got married and got to live on our own houses. Maybe we could live in a duplex, or in two side-by-side cottages. Maybe we could be married but live on opposite coasts. Yeah, that sounds reasonable.
So that's the way it is. I could have kept quiet about it, and not subject myself to the 649 OPINIONS Ima get on this, but I tell you my everyday news every day, and I didn't see how I'd be all, "I was at dinner with ...a friend." It'd be like the old days, where I kept him mysterious. But I'd rather be honest and let the chips fall where they may on this. It's my life and it's my potentially grave mistake I'm making here. So.
I told him what I was going to write here today, to see if he was good with it all. And he said it was fine, but couldn't I mention his sore neck?
Oh, for the love of...Ned has a bulging disc. I hope you're all going to be able to sleep, knowing that.
So. I'll keep you posted. I'm still a little surprised we're trying this.
But it's nice having a Ned again. It's nice being Nick and Nora again, and not George and Martha.
I never did feel right without a Ned.
