Like one pea and one carrot in a pod

Moving in together should be one of those exciting rites of passage in a relationship which both halves of a couple embrace wholeheartedly.

After being together for a total of almost 3 years, Steve and I have started to realise (with everyone getting married around us) that it might be time that we start to consider doing something grown up with our relationship, something like moving in together. So why does the very thought of sharing with a boy (or more accurately Steve make my tummy flip in a heady combination of fear and excitement? Is it the lack of female company that I’ve grown to love and rely on? Is it the prospect of having to hang up a never ending supply of formulaic black socks and boxer shorts? Or argue over toilet seats and ‘mystery pubes.’ Or is it the inevitability of nights spent on my own whilst Steve is mincing around some exotic destination with work, or just stuck behind his desk until midnight?

Moving in with Andy in Brighton never felt this way, but then I was ten years younger and had nothing to lose. We upped from our different parent’s houses and stayed in a B&B until we found somewhere to rent. And then we worried about jobs and bills and all the other stuff once we’d got settled. Now I look back at this as absolute bloody madness!

When you’re 19 you have the arrogance and naivety to believe that things will work out and a complete lack of fear regarding the consequences if they don’t. I guess this time round I’m almost 30 and feel like if it all goes tits up, life could really become quite a bind. And then there’s the practicalities of buying. I like period conversions with the pre-requisite drafts and wonky ceilings, nooks and crannies and Steve likes tasteful new builds with 30 degree static temperature all year round. I would like to live as far away from Clapham as possible, Steve would like to live in Clapham. I would like a big garden for a dog and for me to wear wellies in from time to time and Steve would prefer a decked patio where he never had to do any gardening. We’re both stubborn as hell and rubbish at compromising.

All this lack of unity sometimes makes me wonder whether we’re doing the right thing attempting to live together. Rather like making two opposing magnets sit next to each other, or cooking a vegetarian sausage on a meatie’s BBQ. I know that being with someone is all about loving each other’s differences, and I do try, but it doesn’t come that naturally to me. I have an inner innate bitch when it comes to the men in my life. I want things my way and I’m not scared to admit it. There. Isn’t that terrible. At least I have honesty on my side.

The only issue is I’ve chosen to fall in love with someone who is exactly the same. The net result is this:

Forecast: Stormy weather, excessive rainfall but with intermittent periods of bright, warm sunshine.

It’s not all bad, it’s just a little challenging at times.