happenings

So my boyfriend and I are moving in together. I will be living with a man for the first time in my life. It doesn't count that I grew up with two brothers, right? Or that I hosted a stupid guy from F...another country, who was sort of my boyfriend but not really (but we shore did all the things that couples do), for 3 months in my place five years ago (he never paid his share of the rent and only very rarely contributed in all the other expenses, because he was after all saving up for a grand trip to A...a country far far away, where he would eventually hook up with his co-traveller, which I had to find out from other people and ended up not being able to eat for three days, because I felt so sick about it...but this is a story for another time).

Anyway. Since leaving my childhood home I've been living alone, dealing with things alone, unplugged the sink alone, travelled alone. Not in a hermit kind of way, but safe to say I have been independent. I've kept my (sometimes non-existent) love life and home life separate. And now I want to move in with this guy?? Yes. Oh so much. So much so that today while sitting on the bus I caught myself planning the menu for the first week in the new place. I might as well put on high heels, freshen up the lipstick and tie myself to the stove.

Going, going, gone.

too bad our wages wont cover this kind of loveliness. yet.
photo from here