Isn't it nice to not have to worry about things like whether he wants you for a relationship or just to fool around? I get to come home every day and kiss his lips without any fear that I will want him more as a boyfriend and he will only want me for fun...OR...the sad situation for him where I may be fooling him because I only want him for an occassional date with benefits and he thinks we are something special. I get to throw my arms around him knowing he wants me to do it every time and he wants me around today, tomorrow and the next day.
I was talking to a friend recently about his new prospect and he said he asked this new guy, who he met on line, if he was looking for a friend, a relationship or just a hookup. Whatever the guy said made my friend think he wanted a hookup, but they guy never actually said the word hookup. My friend got a call from the guy one day asking him if he was home, because he wanted to stop by. My friend was not home, but wouldn't have had him come over anyway, he said, because to him, the call meant he just wanted to come over to fool around. My friend wanted more than just a hookup. He said he would not rush to the bedroom (or in his case, the other side of the bookcase which partitioned the bed from the couch in his studio apartment).
A few days later, the guy called my friend at work and asked him if he wanted to go out for a coffee in the afternoon to take a little break from the workday. My friend went and took this as a sign that the guy does not want just a hookup, but would like to establish a relationship with my friend.
There are so many ways to interpret people's actions. If the guy just said what he wanted: a relationship, a friend or a hookup, my friend and I would not have to have endless discussions about what the minute things this guy does actually mean.
When I was dating different guys, my uncle once said to me, "I don't envy you." It is hard on your emotions to have to figure someone out and possibly misread them, but don't we also love the unknown, the challenges and the possibilities?
Maybe there is a time in your life for everything, because right now, I am so content that I can just know.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Friday, April 18, 2008
Can I finish before we talk about bills?
When you're dating, the time you set aside for your boyfriend is solely to concentrate on him and be in the moment of enjoying your togetherness. You eat together, talk to each other, kiss each other, warm each other.
When you live together your talking involves food shopping, cleaning, plans, and things you need to do as part of making your home together. The days of dates filled solely with you and him dressed in blinders to only see and think of each other are over. Having children must enhance this by 800 percent.
When we're making out, the last thing I want to think of is if we've paid the cable bill...but I do think of it because he is the person I'd talk to about paying the cable bill. I try to wait and push the thought out of my mind, saving it for later. Sometimes I do wait, but other times I don't trust my memory. Thinking I'll forget I say it, "Did we finish paying the bills this month?" This one question can be tolerated, but if I ask another or say , "We really need to remember to shut the lights when we leave a room," the mood has become less passionate.
We need to bring the dates back and I should remember, that I will remember to tell him about the bills and the lights...later.
When you live together your talking involves food shopping, cleaning, plans, and things you need to do as part of making your home together. The days of dates filled solely with you and him dressed in blinders to only see and think of each other are over. Having children must enhance this by 800 percent.
When we're making out, the last thing I want to think of is if we've paid the cable bill...but I do think of it because he is the person I'd talk to about paying the cable bill. I try to wait and push the thought out of my mind, saving it for later. Sometimes I do wait, but other times I don't trust my memory. Thinking I'll forget I say it, "Did we finish paying the bills this month?" This one question can be tolerated, but if I ask another or say , "We really need to remember to shut the lights when we leave a room," the mood has become less passionate.
We need to bring the dates back and I should remember, that I will remember to tell him about the bills and the lights...later.
Monday, April 7, 2008
The Boss
We woke up at 10:30 am and our company was coming at three o'clock. We still had to cook every item on our tapas menu, clean the apartment and run to Whole Foods for all the ingredents we forgot to buy. It seemed like plenty of time and it was, especially because G does half the work. He really does. When he isn't sure what to do, he asks what he can do. When he is done with one job, he asks me what he can do next. He's the greatest partner in everything.
As he's chopping onions and I'm stirring the pasta, the water bowls over, I'm simultaneously seasoning the vegetables, lowering the burner, wiping the counter, and I speak outloud. "The floor still needs to be cleaned...the couch pillows are messy...can you go to the store to get more tortellini?"
I guess that was a loaded statement because after 4 or 5 more tri-compound statement/questions, G told me I was bossy. I didn't think so.
Still, I thought about it. He was doing everything that needed to get done to prepare for our company and the day. I felt I just needed to say what else needed to be done out loud so that one of us would do the remaining tasks. I didn't mean to be bossy.
I realized I may have come across as bossy. He lets me tell him everything that needs to be done. He gives me the option of what choices to make and how they should be done I apologized for sounding bossy.
I wonder if being bossy is something that's in me or something that he has fostered by doing everything I want and I have taken advantage. Hmmm.
As he's chopping onions and I'm stirring the pasta, the water bowls over, I'm simultaneously seasoning the vegetables, lowering the burner, wiping the counter, and I speak outloud. "The floor still needs to be cleaned...the couch pillows are messy...can you go to the store to get more tortellini?"
I guess that was a loaded statement because after 4 or 5 more tri-compound statement/questions, G told me I was bossy. I didn't think so.
Still, I thought about it. He was doing everything that needed to get done to prepare for our company and the day. I felt I just needed to say what else needed to be done out loud so that one of us would do the remaining tasks. I didn't mean to be bossy.
I realized I may have come across as bossy. He lets me tell him everything that needs to be done. He gives me the option of what choices to make and how they should be done I apologized for sounding bossy.
I wonder if being bossy is something that's in me or something that he has fostered by doing everything I want and I have taken advantage. Hmmm.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Your half is bigger than mine?
Going to sleep with him is so comfortable. We get under the t-shirt sheets and big down comforter and snuggle up close together. It feels so nice to be close with his arms around me. It's getting later, and I still havent fallen asleep. I realize that I'm not so comfortable and I need to turn over. I think he realizes the same because we mutually let go and retreat to our sides of the bed.
In the middle of the night I'm awaken because my right leg is tense trying to keep itself from slipping off the side of the bed. He's migrated over to my side and I'm scrunched up trying to tell myself that I have enough space be relaxed and to fall back to sleep. After about a minute (which seems like 10 when you're awake in the middle of the night) I give up and push him over. He says, in a raspy whisper, "what?" "Can you please move over," I say. "I'm on my side," he says. "No, you're right in the middle," I say. He moves over, submitting to my request, probably because he is very disinterested in striking up a debate at 3am.
In the morning he tells me he thinks my half of the bed must be bigger than his. I tell him there was room for another person on his side of the bed at 3am. He disagrees.
In the middle of the night I'm awaken because my right leg is tense trying to keep itself from slipping off the side of the bed. He's migrated over to my side and I'm scrunched up trying to tell myself that I have enough space be relaxed and to fall back to sleep. After about a minute (which seems like 10 when you're awake in the middle of the night) I give up and push him over. He says, in a raspy whisper, "what?" "Can you please move over," I say. "I'm on my side," he says. "No, you're right in the middle," I say. He moves over, submitting to my request, probably because he is very disinterested in striking up a debate at 3am.
In the morning he tells me he thinks my half of the bed must be bigger than his. I tell him there was room for another person on his side of the bed at 3am. He disagrees.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Sheets
I changed the sheets today. We have multiple sets since we both came to the apartment with our own and haven't bought new ones. As we went through our "stuff," while unpacking, we made the collective decision to throw out his sandpaper textured sheets from 1995 and kept only his soft t-shirt sheets. We also decided to keep my purple sheets because they are jersey knit (very comfy), only a year old and there really is no reason to throw out perfectly good sheets.
I changed the sheets today, taking off the dark blue, gender-neutral bedding and redressed the bed in Monet lillies. Oh how I love Monet. Despite, our common love for the painter, G actually vetoed the sheets, saying they were too girly. I'll agree, that flowers are feminine, but they are just on the sheets...not the entire comforter.
G insisted we go back to blues. I told him I would definitely take his opinion into consideration.
I changed the sheets today and I will make my decision to change the beautiful sheets of blue ponds with green lily pads and pink flowers by the time the sheets need to be changed again.
I changed the sheets today, taking off the dark blue, gender-neutral bedding and redressed the bed in Monet lillies. Oh how I love Monet. Despite, our common love for the painter, G actually vetoed the sheets, saying they were too girly. I'll agree, that flowers are feminine, but they are just on the sheets...not the entire comforter.
G insisted we go back to blues. I told him I would definitely take his opinion into consideration.
I changed the sheets today and I will make my decision to change the beautiful sheets of blue ponds with green lily pads and pink flowers by the time the sheets need to be changed again.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
He needs his own
The little things you have to get used to about living with someone would be the things you’d laugh at if you were an outsider watching as the scenarios play out.
I was at CVS yesterday where a couple was walking down the travel aisle where you can get anything you need, miniaturized. The girl picked up a tiny tube of toothpaste and placed it in the basket she held. Her boyfriend did the same. She told him she had already picked up toothpaste, thinking he did not see her. He said he knew, but he needed his own. She said, what he probably already knew, that they were only going away for a short time and one toothpaste would be enough for both of them. He agreed but said he needed his own. She called him crazy and he laughed. They kept discussing it. To him it was simple. He needed his own.
Why though?
To her, it was impossible to understand—why spend more when we have what we need? And why don't you want to share with me? Perhaps she, the woman, was acting as the more practical and rational one this time.
I was at CVS yesterday where a couple was walking down the travel aisle where you can get anything you need, miniaturized. The girl picked up a tiny tube of toothpaste and placed it in the basket she held. Her boyfriend did the same. She told him she had already picked up toothpaste, thinking he did not see her. He said he knew, but he needed his own. She said, what he probably already knew, that they were only going away for a short time and one toothpaste would be enough for both of them. He agreed but said he needed his own. She called him crazy and he laughed. They kept discussing it. To him it was simple. He needed his own.
Why though?
To her, it was impossible to understand—why spend more when we have what we need? And why don't you want to share with me? Perhaps she, the woman, was acting as the more practical and rational one this time.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Less independence
When you're 30 and you move in with your boyfriend, after living on your own for many years, it's much different than if you acquire the boyfriend roommate when you're 22 or 23. You have to get used to letting someone know what time you'll be home and where you're going. You have to comply with their standards of cleanliness and neatness, share in the regular household chores and agree on how to decorate with your stuff and his stuff. You have to accept that my furniture is much newer and nicer than yours, so we'll keep it and get rid of yours.
The longer you've lived on your own, the more selfish you become. I don't mean to say all people who live on their own are extremely selfish or think the world revolves around them. I just believe it is more likely that they have to pay extra attention and work extra hard to realize their actions or inactions are much more important in the new “living together partnership.” My parents were 19 and 24 when they married and did most things in sync at the beginning of their marriage. I think, at 30, we'll start out less in sync and grow to be more the same in the future.
If you moved in with your boyfriend at a younger age you may not have had the chance to do only for yourself over the course of years. You and your boyfriend will learn together how to live on your own away from the parents. You will buy furniture and decorations together and not have to throw away the things you've collected on your own while living without him.
So when we're 30 and moving in together, he agrees his furniture is crap and we can keep mine, even though it's white shabby chic. He agrees that I have more clothes then him and the bigger closet is in the bedroom so I get the bedroom closet. Lying on his bed makes us sea sick, so we keep my bed and trash his. Everything in the bedroom is mine and now he doesn't feel like it's his bedroom. He has to make a major adjustment because not only is he used to having his own room, but now he will have one that looks nothing like the way he'd decorate his own room. The two smaller closets in the hallway are his. He says his bedroom is the hallway. I tell him to buy pictures or anything he can to add to make it more “our bedroom” and I really mean it.
It was so easy to enjoy his company and fall in love with him, but compromise and sacrifice are harder when you're older. You've lead more of your own life for you. I'd never regret first moving in with someone at 30 because I think the experiences I've had on my own were amazing whether good or bad...just because they were my own. Living together is so different, and even while there may always be some small bumps in our merged paths, partly because we have developed independently for many years, we will be so much happier that we are together now.
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