Mi Casa es Su Casa

Well, it’s official. We’re shacked up, living in sin, having the cow for free, so to speak. And I find myself…happy.

Yesterday we removed the last of his belongings to either a dumpster or to my…ahem, our house. He turned in his keys, left the forwarding address, and came “home” for the first time, officially.
I find myself smiling as I write this.

There’s something symbolic about this…not just the next step in our relationship, but it marks the close of a chapter as well. Shedding himself of this apartment doesn’t just mean that he no longer pays rent for what had essentially become a one bedroom storage unit, it also frees us from a part of the past. A part that was dark, the events which occurred within those walls. Like a crime scene.
I admit, I didn’t dare set foot in the bedroom. I could feel her in the whole apartment and found myself wondering where she had been, what she had touched, what she left.

This feels like some baggage has been left behind. To me the apartment was a last tie to the past. This may sound a little crazy but I began to see it as a hideout, and a place he could keep secrets from me, and I didn’t like it. It’s not as if he’d been using it in that way for the past year, but there was a time that he did, so I suppose it’s not entirely unwarranted. Leaving that place means he’s giving up the shadows and secrets.

It’s also symbolic of growing up. Losing the bachelor pad and building a life in an adult relationship. A loving relationship, not one of convenience or born out of loneliness or boredom. A relationship we both want to be in and that we’re working hard for.

I’m happy. I’m happy he’s away from all that, both geographically and emotionally. I’m happy that he wants to be together, sharing a home and our lives. I’m happy that he has cut the ties that weighed him down-the bullshit, the so-called friends, and finally, the apartment.

Despite all this, moving doesn’t magically fix anything. I still ache. I still think about it every day, and wonder if I know the whole truth. I still ask why it happened. I still look for her. I still have an issue with redheads (irrational, I know, and I’m sorry, gingers). I still wish every day that she would fall off the face of the planet. These feelings aren’t really within my control, unfortunately.

But overall I’m happy. It’s a giant positive step forward for both of us and it makes me look forward to our future together. In our home.