I did a super smart thing and moved in with my boyfriend after a few months of being together because, well, why not? We knew each others’ last names and middle initials, we never fought over the TV remote (because it’s federal law that it always belongs to me and we always watch Project Runway), and he saw me without makeup at least one and half times. I don’t even think we discussed it– it just happened. And when it came to moving to a new apartment, I just sort of followed him, hoping he wouldn’t notice the six pillow pets I sneakily tucked into his bed. Absolutely nothing could go wrong!
PLOT TWIST: it’s working out splendidly. He does things I have the ability to do, but would never want to do, and is good for things my other roommates didn’t do, but should have done. Basically, this is a near-perfect living arrangement, and this is why:
1. Home protection. One night, I woke up to pee, and noticed the bathroom door was closed. No one else we knew was in the apartment, and neither of us thought we closed it, so we came to the only valid conclusion we could think of: there was a murderer and he was there to decapitate us one at a time. I feigned bravery and pretended like I was going to risk my life when the boyfriend stopped me, grabbed a pair of scissors, and told me to stay in the room. He then inspected the apartment, scissors at the ready for stabbing fools, and reported back with the verdict. It turns out we both have memories that resemble those of fish, and one of us (not me) idiotically closed the door.
2. Alone time. I’ve always been a lone wolf type, but living in the same room as someone means being around that person practically 24/7. If I want alone time, I have to go into the living room, which means *gasp* not being able to sit around in my underwear with my legs spread wide apart. Luckily for me, as we’ve lived together, I learned that boys like to take their phones into the bathroom with them when they know they’re going to be in there a while (you know, when they’re taking a shit), which makes them stay in there even longer. This gives me 20-30 minutes of “me time” per day, depending on what we eat. I now plan my schedule around his daily trek to the bathroom, and I must say, it’s taught me a great deal about time management.
3. Warmth. I’m naturally a cold person– both emotionally and physically– and he is the exact opposite. He is warm. That is the opposite of cold. I love the fact that I can come in with freezing cold hands, and demand a hug (aka put my hands on his neck to absorb warmth… aka use him as a personal heater that’s only purpose is to provide me with heat). The best part is he only resists most of the time, and I don’t feel guilty at all!
While this all might sound like heaven on earth, there have been a few things a good five-minute discussion and maybe another year or three of dating would have fixed. We haven’t been able to work out some crucial issues such as:
1. Farting. We haven’t broken the fart barrier yet. Sure, there have been multiple times we’ve farted ourselves awake without the other noticing, but apparently this “doesn’t count” because it’s done unconsciously or something. I’ve definitely come back into the room to discover he’s surrounded by a faint gaseous smell, but he’s denied it every time because he claims he’s “incapable of farting.” It’s turned into this strange game that involves him saying he needs to fart and me pushing on his stomach to force it out, but I’ve had no luck so far. It’s actually quite frustrating.
2. Blankets. We have one blanket that’s definitely big enough for two-to-six people, yet somehow all the laws of blanket-sharing physics go out the window the second we fall asleep. I feel like I’m always pulling it away from him at night as I shiver and risk losing limbs due to frostbite, and rather than be a gentleman about it, he pulls it back with true force. In fact, there was a time when I tried grabbing it, and he semi-unconsciously whined, “But I neeeeeeed this!” He claims he doesn’t remember. I think he’s lying.
3. Masturbation. I’ve heard that sometimes people get urges to do things, and sometimes these urges can’t be stopped. And sometimes all a person wants to do is go in the other room and do… stuff… alone. “Beat one out,” if you will. And once in a while, someone will come into the room without knocking and find the other person with her eyes closed tight and with one hand down her pants. I’m speaking hypothetically, of course. But to be clear, knocking is a good thing that some people should learn how to do. Especially if their initials are M.B.
But other than that, things are great! I highly suggest moving in with someone you kind of know and like, and have an inkling you’d get along with more than half the time you spend together. Who knows? Maybe you’ll be able to fart freely in front of each other eventually. That’s true cohabitation.