Darlings, the last week has been absolutely 100% different from what I anticipated.
Until last Thursday, I was planning to move into my apartment in one of the nice, safe, but boring neighborhoods of Pittsburgh. I would be moving at the end of the month, living with two guys I didn’t know (but who seemed very sweet from our brief meeting!) and I would hope to save enough money that in case something happened after I graduated and I lost my job at Adam & Eve, I could still pay my bills. And honestly, it was giving me a stomach ulcer.
Obviously, I made completely sane and balanced decision on Thursday: to move in with my boyfriend. (I say that with the full knowledge that, holy shit, this is kind of crazy.) He asked me, I said yes, and by Saturday, we’d found someone to take my spot on the lease for the other place, and half of my things are now moved to our place. Our place is a really weird thing to say, and it makes me feel pretentious.
“Yes, please do come to our place for dinner. Bring a nice cabernet.”
But wait. If I wasn’t planning on moving until the end of the month, why have I moved half of my things already? Glad you asked! There was a sewage leak at my apartment this weekend. There were puddles of sewage in the laundry room, which is directly next to my apartment’s door. Ergo, my apartment smelled like feces. It really was getting ugly in here. And my management company learned that I am not a woman to be crossed. (I think the only person who could have scared them more would have been Maggie Smith.)
Ewan absolutely loves his new digs, since he was moved already back on Saturday night when this fiasco began. He really seems to like running around in “Step Dad’s” big bedroom, and the boyfriend gets most of his kicks from watching Ewan eat Cheerios. All in all, it’s a pretty good arrangement.
But, let’s be serious. There’s some nitty-gritty to address here. We’ve only been together for about three months, so we’re knee-deep in the honeymoon phase. Some of my very best friends have said they’re not sure if it’s a good idea. I actually agree. I’m really not sure. Honestly, I can’t tell you that this is absolutely, unequivocally the best idea we’ve ever had. But…
We just get along amazingly. I’ve never clicked so well with someone, even just doing nothing. I’m completely sure we will have our first big fight while living together, and I’m really glad I’m moving my bed back to my parents’ house in case we need a weekend apart. I really do think this is a risk worth taking because from my current perspective, I’d regret not trying it more than seeing it go awry.
Have you ever lived with a significant other? How did it go? Any tips?