Thank you so much to everyone who left me sweet notes on the last post. I missed you guys too! Muah!!!
For R who asked about the hunk, one thing I forgot to mention yesterday is that he's a veteran too. So some way or another I still find myself in this mil-spouse - girlfriend - fan circle. I guess we were all just meant to be friends no matter what. Even though he's not in the military anymore, he still works with the military and there's a possibility that he'll be gone for weeks at a time for his work.
Enough about him. I want to talk about me.
Y'all, I'm freaking out. I'm moving into his place this weekend (we picked it out together but he's been living in it for months and it just feels like his place) and I had no idea how emotional it would be. Moving is a HUGE pain no matter how you slice it, but it's not just the packing and the sorting and the broken nails and the hurting back. It's the HOLY CRAP I'm about to COHABIT with my MALE PARTNER and it will be FOR THE REST OF OUR LIVES.
Let me back up a little before you all start to suggest counselling. I LOVE him. I'm so lucky to be able to be in a relationship with him. He's the mac to my cheese and the grand to my canyon and all that. It's just that, see, I'm a VERY independent person. I'm also not as young as I used to be. OK, I'm not decrepit though I did turn 30 not too long ago and I kind of felt like it. Point is, I've been on my own for a long time. Yep, I have a roommate now and she's awesome but it's not the same. Her stuff is her stuff and my space is my space and we get along great and are very considerate of each other and I feel like I have my own space and my own zone and my own things and my own privacy.
But as I took the first few boxes in last weekend (and he wasn't there...gone for work for awhile) it hit me. There is no longer any MINE. It's all OURS. And I may have had a little meltdown.
Again, I want to say this isn't a commentary on our relationship per se. I've been a feisty and independent thinker since I was in diapers. My grandma reminds me of that all the time. As Gaga said, baby I was born that way.
I'm just not sure what to do with these crazy emotions. I know that I just have to let them come and feel them and not dwell on the negative but I just feel so unbalanced right now and I don't like it. I tried to talk to him about it last night and I'm not sure that in my state it was such a great idea. He asked me how I was, I promptly started crying, then started blubbering about how my olive oil wouldn't be my olive oil anymore it would be OUR olive oil and that meant my life was over. And he's like, Oh my God, I won't be able to leave town with you by yourself ever again.
My friends just came over and brought Mediterranean food and wine so I have to cut this short. I will complain to you more later. Thoughts and advice welcome.