This is the thing about my relationship with Ad.  All that stuff in my head, all that talk of moving of escaping of pushing away and restlessness and needing space and all that…I can say to him. I just spent 45 minutes on the phone with him talking about my last two posts (he doesn’t read my blogs very often. If at all.)  And he just…talks to me about it. No recriminations, no defensiveness, no fear or anger. He lets me talk it all through til I get to the other side, or come to my senses, or think it through and realize what won’t work, and gives me options of what might work–I mean the man seriously talks about it, about what would make it work for me, firstly, and secondarily for us. If I wanted to move to the house, how could I manage it financially? What could he do to make it manageable for me? And what would the repercussions be to me personally and our relationship in general. Just as calm and thoughtful as you please, as if we were discussing buying a new car, not me flying off on some hair-brained scheme.  And in doing that, he doesn’t get my back up, doesn’t make me feel I have to defend my crazy ideas or force them to work…and slowly, I come to my own decisions, realizing that I really don’t want to live in that house.

And then, just after I end that conversation with him, my coworker that is looking for a new place comes into my office and tells me she and her partner would love to look at the house this week (I’d told her it was empty and we were thinking about renting it.) Sometimes the universe really is paying attention.

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