My boyfriend drives me crazy–in a good way. It’s hard to argue with him when he cracks a joke. A seemingly uncomfortable conversation always evolves into an easygoing, relaxed conversation. He is so easy to talk to–when I get him to sit down and talk. Someone once told me–I think it may have been my uncle Lonny–that as long as you can talk to your significant other about anything rather than just sit around or have sex, you’ll be fine. I think that when Mike and I do move in together, we’ll probably work. We probably won’t kill each other. I think.

It’s such a scary thought, to move in with someone. To take that step. A long time ago, when I was young and stupid, I thought moving in with my then-boyfriend would be a great idea. I yearned for that time. Luckily it was all over before we had taken that step. See, we didn’t have that talking type of relationship. Mostly he wanted to get high and/or drunk, while I held his hair back for him. You can’t do much talking while your significant other is puking his guts out. It’s just not happening. I’m glad he cheated on me. I was able to wake up and smell the roses. He was a bad boyfriend, in so many ways. He never hit me or called me names, but there were other things he did. Things I don’t like thinking about. Things I could never see Mike doing to me.

I don’t mean to compare them. I just like thinking about how lucky I am to have found Mike. I think about all of the frogs I’ve kissed and how this time he just might be my prince. He likes to say that you have to slay a lot of dragons before you get to the princess. To think that he might be the one makes my heart skip a beat. We haven’t really had any major problems. Even when I’m so mad at him I could kill someone, I still think about him. Constantly. I don’t ever want him to go away.

So I am glad that he is willing to wait for me to get my B.A. in English so we can move in together. I shouldn’t have been so surprised at how accepting and supportive he was about it. I expected him to be sad, or mad, that I can’t move in with him just yet. Honestly, most of it is that I don’t want to be trying to finish school while working full-time and living together. I can only imagine how stressful that would be. It might be so stressful that it puts a burden on us. When we both have good full-time jobs it would be a lot less stressful. We’ve already stood the test of two years. I think we can handle another year or so before we move in together.

If only I could live in a less crazy–and crowded–household.