Burs and I are living together.
Burs, lil Burs and I are living together. I moved my belongings in yesterday.
Right now, it feels like any other day since I’ve been staying here straight for the last month. I’ve had drawers with my stuff in it for the last two months. Burs and I have decorated. I’ve brought new things for the apartment. It feels like I already was living here.
Except that I’d always refer to it as HIS apartment. MINE was further down the road. Not wanting to temp the universe into thinking…whatever the universe thinks that makes relationships go awry (I know it isn’t the universes fault entirely).
Now I’m looking at five fully-packed bags sitting in the corner staring at me. The five bags that hold my entire life in London (minus the stuff in the drawers of course).
A trip to Ikea is in the works, time has been spent looking through rental listings for more space and I have the beaming faces of both Burs and lil Burs filled with glee that this is now my new address. I can know longer refer to this space as his…and I’m sure my New York self, the one that is still in shock that I’m cohabiting with my love interest, will stop pinching herself and believe that this has all happened. (And the universe will not be tempted…)
I just hung up with Smith and told her that the bowling spot is down the block from OUR APARTMENT…didn’t take me long at all!