As of today, I officially moved into Geoff’s house.
When I tell friends this, they usually respond with, “Wow! Taking the big step! Are you excited or nervous?”
Because I feel neither, it confuses me when my friends ask this, but I guess it is a legitimate question. Moving into a boyfriend’s house is a big step, but for some reason I don’t view it that way. It just seems natural.
Considering I’ve been staying here almost every day since we first met, there is no fanfare for my official arrival into the house. Instead I have a pile of crap that needs to find a home in its new home.
As I sit here on his couch, a long, green mid-century couch that was oddly in the film Tree of Life, I look around and see very little that is mine because this is not my house. It is Geoff’s. He designed the house himself with his former long term girlfriend. The design and decor of the house doesn’t scream, “Geoff and former girlfriend!”, nor does it scream, “Just Geoff!” The design is minimal and one that is attractive to me. It is a contemporary, open floor plan with barn doors for walls and splashes of color from Geoff’s favorite city, Santa Fe, here and there. The house is one that I maybe would have designed for myself, or maybe I would have restored an ornate Victorian home in some other city and some other time in my life. Who knows.
I had quick flashes of sadness when I think that I’m not entering unmarked living quarters of my own, where I can freely adorn the walls with old photos of Georgia O’Keefe, mid-century homes in Los Angeles and views of the desert from Route 40. Or place David Byrne paraphernalia, mannequin heads with mustaches and wigs wherever I may please. But the thing is, Geoff likes these sort of images and knick knacks and he would be happy to have them in his house because he likes Georgia O’Keefe and David Byrne and mustaches and wigs too.
But how do I ask him? How do I come into someone’s home and say, “Look, we’re changing things up, Buddy.” In small intervals I will ask him questions that will lead to potential changes in his household- “can we put a bookcase there?” or “maybe a coat rack would be nice near the door”- and every time he happily agrees and every time I’m surprised. Why should I be surprised? He wants me in his house, yet I can’t help but feel I need to ease into this without disrupting the solitary life he’s had in his home for a number of years.
It’s interesting moving into someone else’s home. If the roles were reversed- Geoff moved into my home- how would I feel? Would I have difficulty making changes that incorporate his style and taste? Would it be my first most difficult exercise in sharing? Or would I welcome it with open arms, having waited for this moment to share my tastes and interests with someone else for a very long time? I know it would be the latter.
The question is, do I feel at home here? And the answer is, I feel at home with Geoff, wherever that may be. When I lie in bed and watch the shadow of the tree dance along his ceiling, I feel at peace. I have been waiting for this moment yet it came with the tiniest noise.
Maybe one day I’ll feel comfortable saying “ours” instead of “his”.
I remember when I first moved in with my (now ex) boyfriend. I moved into his apartment with him and his 2 cats. It was strange – I still felt like a visitor….. just one that never went home. It wasn’t until a year later that we moved into a different apartment that we picked out together that it really started to feel like home for me. Just give it some time hun. Soon that homey feeling that you have with him will spread to your surroundings and it will feel like you’ve always been there. Yay for moving in together!! It warms my cold black heart to hear you so happy 🙂
“I have been waiting for this moment yet it came with the tiniest noise” – one of the best lines I have ever read
I love this post and congratulations! I feel exactly what you are saying and STILL think we are sisters from another mister.
The title of this post reminds me of one of my favorite songs by The Cure, Lovesong.
Keep riding the wave, and dancing to the beat of your own drum. The rest of us will catch up. Eventually. xxoo
When Copper and I started dating again, he never left my place, or vice versa. When I found an awesome rental downtown, he started hinting around about being tired of his place, maybe moving, yada yada…this went on for about two weeks. Finally I asked “would you like to move in with me?”
He has the nerve to answer “meh, let me think about it”…I could have punched him in the face! He did eventually move in, and now here we are, with our own place.
Relax, enjoy it. I’m so happy for you.
Ha – if my boyfriend and I were to move in together I would promptly send him away for the weekend so I could paint and decorate while he was away. My boyfriend has no style, nor does he have many possessions – let alone knick knacks. I would obviously consider his tastes and the fact that he’s a boy and not make it too girlie.
He’s the kind of boy who would be happy as long as he had a comfy couch and a TV. Sad but true – I still love him 😛
I think over time the place will start feeling like it’s both of yours. I think it’s easier when the place is new for both of you – but in your case he’s already got it set up to his liking, so it will be an adjustment for both.
Haha. There is much to be said for a comfy couch and TV.
What a compassionate and mature take on moving in with someone. And, as always, a beautifully written post. Geoff is a lucky man.
Thank you so much, Stefani!
I just randomly stumbled upon your blog. Thank god – because I love it. Good stuff!
Repeating what Jennifer said:
“I have been waiting for this moment yet it came with the tiniest noise” – one of the best lines I have ever read.