On Moving In

Over two months ago, I signed a lease with my boyfriend. It’s kind of a scary step to take; we probably took it a little bit too soon, but it’s paid off so far.

I feel like books and movies turn moving in together into this big romantic gesture; that’s all bullshit. In this economy? Living alone isn’t affordable. So we moved a little faster than we originally planned when my living situation at the time got to be too stressful and we found an awesome roommate and a sweet apartment at the same time.

I think I’ve been portraying this living situation a bit like a perfect fairytale; it’s not. It’s life. There’s a lot of adjustment happening.

Suddenly, my room isn’t my own anymore. Our guitar collections have merged. Our laundry has merged. Our sleep schedules? They’re a mess. I like getting up and getting into work early; he’s a night owl who rarely makes it to bed by midnight.

Sometimes it feels like we’re suffocating each other; which then turns into an uncomfortable distance after we overcompensate. We’re both major introverts, so getting a good balance of alone time, alone together time, and people time can get tough. But we’re getting the hang of it.

Living with people is never easy. Sharing a room for the first time in over a decade isn’t easy. But we make it work. There’s nobody else I’d rather do this life thing with.

 

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