Wednesday, 14 November 2012

If My Heart Was A House

So I don’t know if this is weird or not...but I’ve never lived by myself.

It’s nothing to do with not wanting to or having some odd aversion to spending time by myself, it’s just that the opportunity never occurred.

I lived with my parents and 3 siblings (very crowded), then went on a gap year where I lived with 12 other people (only 2 bathrooms), then I moved to Uni and lived in halls (full entirely of boys) then moved into a house with R, B1 and B2 (the messiest house of them all), and now it’s just me and R for the foreseeable future.

In fact, me and R were almost like the ultimate lesbians in that we’d actually already organised living together (albeit with B1 and B2) before we’d even hooked up.

But is this a bad thing? Have I missed out on some major part of my life where I’m meant to live alone and “discover myself”? The idea of living alone does kind of appeal to me. When R and I had just gotten together, it was nice to have a "your place or mine?" moment as we came back from a night out. It was exciting to start leaving little things like a pair of pyjamas in her room and have her invite me to leave my toothbrush. I like the idea of being able to wallow in my terrible habits and tell myself they're "quirks" as I move a month worth of dirty tea cups into the kitchen to wash them. 

But I've been told many times by as many people, that you can't move "backwards" in a relationship...whatever that means. But I really do think that I've become far too accustomed to R's presence to even seriously consider getting my own place. Plus, I don't fancy having to pay a whole flat's rent alone. It's hard enough to make ends meet splitting the rent 2 ways.

I’m not even entirely sure that I would enjoy living by myself. I have this horrible experience every time I’m on my way back from the bathroom when my bladder has woken me up in the middle of the night, and my brain decides it want to relive the scariest moments of every horror movie I’ve ever watched. (Most recently, the Grudge)

I wasn't scared when I watched it...but it plays on your mind.
Will I miss it? Will I one day wake up and realise that I want “space”? That I want time to be free and indulge all my horrible habits?

I’m thinking probably not.

If I didn’t have R, the washing up would never be done, my shoes would slowly accumulate into a small mountain in the hallway and I would have to make my own cups of tea.

Also it is likely that R would starve, she would never have a dry towel and would possibly whimper into oblivion if I wasn't there to coddle her when she was sick. 

So for now, I feel settled with my lady.

And I really…really hate washing up.


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