Friday, May 10, 2013

6 months

So, I says to the Boy earlier this week:  Do you know what Monday is?  He thinks about it for a moment and says: It's the 13th.

Do you know what the 13th is, I ask?  He asks me if I'm being a girl and I say yes.  He says the 13th will be some number of months  that we've been together, for which he gets a poke in the gut.  Then he admitted that it's been six months since we met.  He's a guy, so I don't think it means much to him, except that I seem to care so he humours me.  For me, it feels like a milestone.

Things are still new, but we're figuring them out.   We're happy.   We probably have more that we're opposites about than we have in common, but we have a lot of fun.  He's good for me; not just that he treats me better than any guy has before, but also that he keeps me in check (as I do for him).

He's a wee bit of a redneck, I am a wee bit of a priss.   He likes hard rock noise, I like just about everything but.  He loves horrors movies, I like (according to him) sap.  He's a meat and potatoes guy who likes to eat out.  I like vegetables, and prefer to stay in and cook,   I have a huge sweet tooth, he's diabetic.  So, we compromise, try new things and figure it out.

Next month some time, construction on my basement is supposed to start.  There'll be an office for me to work in during the day, but more, this is a means to make room for him.  Having lived alone as long as I have, I've said that a separate room to congregate in is a requirement before I could share my very open-concept home with anybody.  So, we're getting that in place so that I can start to adjust and get used to the idea of sharing my space permanently   Plans are for him to move in when his lease is up next winter.

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