Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Moving In and Sacred Spaces

Moving in with someone is a tough thing to do. Kyle asked me the other day if maybe him, Charles, and I could all move in together when our lease went up (which is in like...7 monhs, too far away to think about) and I came up with some stuff that was always apparent to me, but I never put into words. Moving in with someone who isn't your significant other is weird. Hell, moving in with your significant other can be weird. Alot of people jump into that step too quickly. You never know whether the person your moving in with is going to be a total slob or what. You don't know if the men are going to leave the toilet seat up. You never know if the person will wash their own dishes or just leave them out on the table for other people to deal with. Living with friends means you have to make rules like "no having sex in the livingroom," because I don't want to be sitting on our cum covered couch (ewww).

I think my personal point in all of this is that I'm not sure I'd ever be able to live with anyone but Charles. Even me, Charles, plus one of our good friends that's practically over here everyday. It's partly due to all of these things and it's partly due to my selfishness. I don't like people touching my things and I don't like being outruled without good reason. At least with Charles and I, if we don't agree on something we talk it out and figure out a solution. If its us plus one, if someone is outvoted, then it usually doesn't matter what they say (even if they're completely in the right) because they have been outvoted.

As for sacred spaces...I miss Charles. I want him back home and our room is our sacred place. People come in and out of my livingroom and kitchen everyday. That wasn't Charles's space. Even though he hung out in here, all of his things, his presence lingers in our room. So this is a fair warning to anyone who comes into my apartment---DON'T GO INTO MY ROOM--or its very possible you will get your head bit off. I'm not usually a crazy bitch, but I'm very very touchy about his things and probably will be until he gets back. I can't stand to even see people open our door.

"My room seems wrong
The bed wont fit
I cannot seem to operate
and you my love are gone"

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