The days of green face masks, Britney Spears on repeat and 4-day long marathons of Sex & the City are over: The Boy and I have decided to move in together. [editor's note: I need new pastimes- could I be more cliche???]
After a good few years dating and many a sleepovers we've decided to bunk up and find one apartment to call our own. This is a huge step for me- and for him. And I'm tottallllly cool with it...
Though I've had male roommates before, I've never lived with a Boy I was romantic with. Even though I'm at the so-called "right" age, it still feels like a huge step. I've spent most of my life with the world being my dating Oyster- even a serial monogamist like myself always felt a little freer knowing that I could come back to my own place sans boyfriend and a closet stuffed to the brim of just my sh*t. Now, it will be stuffed to the brim with his AND my sh*t- and I assure you, his is far messier.
I'm nervous about him interfering with my Friends marathons that truly never end (I'm not giving that up!). I'm worried that he'll tire of my lounge ensemble of sweats, XXXXXXXXL henley shirts and what I deem, "Bunhead" (seen here).
Will I have to try to amp-up my sex appeal more on my downtime? Ho-hum. That's what weekends are for!!! Can't a girl just enjoy a plate of Nachos in her high school basketball warm-up clothes with raccoon-eyes because she just washed her face without using makeup remover and now the upper-half of her face is a lovely cakey, black color every now and again?!?! Is that REALLY asking too much?
Though we've been monogamous and happy together for almost 3 years, colliding our worlds onto a lease agreement does bring about a little voice in my head: I'm old, super attached and perhaps never single again.
AI-YI-YI, that's a pill to swallow.
But before you paint me as a callous b*tch, please understand that I'm not the only one who enjoys my independence. The Boy, who once acted as single as you can expect (must I say more? You get it.), is wrangling the lockdown of that part of his life. Make no mistake, I have THE world's most honest and faithful boyfriend who would always do right by me, but I know the deposit on the apartment will also feel like he's closing a chapter he has always held dear.
During and since College, he has lived in "man caves" where a beer, a football and a video game tournament were never more than a stone's throw away. Don't get me wrong, I like sports but some of the guyish aspects will now cease to exist- such as the chew and spitters he tries to accompany games with- those days are dunzo my friend. And from 2006-2009 he lived in an apartment where he had his own bathroom. He did not clean the bathroom once during that time. ONCE. These are the things I worry about (ONCE!).
But with loss certainly comes gain. Though I know I will no longer find someone at the bar on Ladies Night and make out with them in the dark corner of the dance floor (feel the need to explain that no, I haven't been doing that during our relationship), I will find excitement in new, wonderful ways:
I look forward to the nights I cook for him and his job is to eat and I look forward to when that role is reversed and I get to relax while he creates delicious plate art (we both like cooking AND eating). I look forward to the nights we each have something different to do yet enjoy each others' company while we scurry around the apartment getting ready. I look forward to lazy Sundays full of movies, pajamas, sweats and big breakfasts. I look forward to coming home to him on great and trying days. I look forward to what I don't even know will come yet.
The fear is still there (oh dear Lord will he help me clean? And can we please have a closed-door bathroom policy) but the excitement is overwhelming.
C'est la vie- here goes nothing!
What is your experience (or lack thereof) of living with a significant other?
*Trivia Bonus: Can you tell me where my post title came from? I'll ♥ you forever!