So, I have just moved into a new apartment alone with the boy, Joe. And the first night I was laying in bed next to him I realized: I have never lived alone with one person, a significant other, ever before.
I have done the living on my own with strangers for college, and then living on my own with friends, and then I did the moving back into my mom’s house thing. Then in a slightly awkward turn, Joe and I lived at my mom’s house, after a minor upset with his roommate, and then another slightly awkward turn when we moved to, what I affectionately call, The Land of the Snow, where we moved in with Joe’s mom.
Now we have our own apartment and it is strange. Not a bad strange, not at all – I love the fact he comes home and I can meet him at the door with a kiss and a hug. I love the fact that there is actually a place for all of our stuff, and it’s all ours!
I’ve never had an OUR before!
Now tell me, my sisterhood, when does it stop feeling surreal, and turn into real? I still have a floating feeling that we didn’t do this, we didn’t come up with first and last in so little time, we couldn’t have possibly moved everything in a weekend and set it up in a week, and now have an apartment that’s all ours! It had to have happened to some other people.
I’m going to try to stop questioning this and go straighten up our kitchen. Hope you all are having the best of Thursdays!