I told Daddy that I wanted to move in with him today. Now, I've got to figure out how to do that.
We talked a bit about my stuff (which includes a lot more than just shoes). We talked a bit about what I was going to do with my furniture, my tchotchkes, and the litter box. And we talked a bit about my job. And as we talked, I realized that I'm a little bit scared. I really wish I had that crystal ball. We're taking a leap of trust....that what we have together won't be messed up by being together a lot more of the time. I'm comfortable with the decision. I've been accused of jumping into things without thinking many times in the past. This time, I took some time to think about it. And the more I think about it, the more I realize that no matter the difficulties that might come up, there isn't anywhere else I feel more at home than with Daddy and the boy. We've spent a year building those strands that hold us together. Now it's time to begin the fabric that will make us both feel warm.
I've taken a walk around my apartment and wondered why I never got comfortable here. I don't remember when it seemed like "home" to me, but I did get used to having my own place. I had to leave too much behind. There wasn't room, and I lost "custody" of quite a few things. But now that I'm faced with losing even more of the things that make me happy, I'm starting to feel a little lost again. I remember moving in here, thinking that I'd never like living alone. And I don't. I dislike coming home to a silent house, with nobody to hug me after a bad day, with no one to cook for or eat with. One of the best things about spending time with Daddy is eating together. Talking. Knowing that when the silence becomes unbearable, he's there with a smile and a kiss for me. That's reason enough for me to want more time with him.
I've taken a look around my apartment and figured that most of the kitchen stuff, bathroom stuff and my clothes and (thankfully) my shoes, won't have problems. It's not a very big kitchen and most of the stuff can be used. I'm pretty sure my son will take the rest of it.
The furniture won't work. The tchotchke cabinet is too large, his table is better, and the couch and chair just won't work. That makes me a little sad, because that couch has seen me through a lot. I've slept on it for the better part of five years, and I still do it when I'm having nightmares. But I don't have those nightmares when I'm with Daddy. I'll probably sell all of it. Maybe I'll buy a smaller tchotchke cabinet and a chest of drawers that matches the one he has. Thankfully he's got an Ikea fetish, so I don't think that one will be a problem.
We've still got some things we need to work out. Some are practical: where my scrapbooking crap will go, which of my books I'll get rid of and which to take with me, is there really enough room in the closet for my shoes; cooking, cleaning, laundry....that stuff.
And the more important things: will we still make time to be in love? Can we maintain the communication, the trust, the love that we've found? All of these things are those which we'll have to make an effort to keep. And all of those things that make losing the couch pretty ok with me.