He Said/She Said: When She Moves In With Him

I had just started calling J. my boyfriend when he asked me to move in – rather, told me I was moving in. He had posted my apartment on Craig’s List “just to gauge the response” and within an hour received six. At work when he delivered the news, I kind of freaked. I like my independence. I like my space. And when it comes to fight or flight syndrome, I’m like the Road Runner – Beep, Beep, Zroooooommm, I’m gone! Sponsored link: Spark the romance. Pamper yourself. Book your romantic spa getaway today. You deserve it! Click here to discover a great deal.

After a supportive reality-check from my female colleagues, I allowed the cohabitation notion to sink in. In eight quick months, we had gone from flirting at happy hour to Facebook friends to full-fledged summer hookup to falling hard — and would now share everything. A few days later, I squashed the “what ifs” and started packing.

We had what many urbanites would call a long-distance relationship. He lives on the Upper West Side; my pad was in the East Village, about as far away as is geographically possible in New York City. With all my clothing and personal effects stuffed into a Zipcar, I invaded his living space as any woman with too many pairs of jeans, leggings and shoes can do. I claimed a closet and a half, the crawl space, two dressers, a few under-bed drawers, a shelf in the bathroom and … I still need more.

Going from my ground floor studio apartment to his four-bedroom, 2,000 square-foot townhouse with three roommates is a bit of an adjustment, but a good one. Thankfully, his bedroom, err, our bedroom is on its own floor and there are three bathrooms and tons of closets.

It’s a few weeks in and I still have to remind myself, This is home, you are not just spending the night. Not only do I want to devour him physically, I love talking to him. Even when I think he’s not listening because his eyes and fingers are glued to his iPhone, he’ll surprise me with a witty retort. So I’m sharing some of my insight into our new love arrangement, and he has sent in his thoughts separately. Check out our She Said/He Said!

Something That Annoyed You Nothing. A lot … I dunno, I’m pleading the 5th on this one. He wanted to invite a girl he used to date (that’s putting it nicely) over to watch a basketball game. This was three days in. I hung up on him. There was no way I was going to hang out comfortably with this girl in my living room. I don’t care if they’re still friends, I’ll see her out socially, I just don’t want her sitting on my couch – especially, when I know she’s still interested in him.
Something That Surprised You How much her mother knows about me. Their conversations seemed to only entail swearing and hanging up after 27 seconds. Secretly, she has been disclosing many personal details about me. I find it quite flattering. He’s been leaving me little surprises on my pillow when I get home from work, like a rainbow sticker one day and a note card with a memory scribbled on it on another. For such a tough guy, I’m sometimes taken aback by how sweet he can be. He also talks to his mom, like, three times a day.
On Closet Space What closet?! I had two walk-ins and she enacted eminent domain on both as soon she moved in. It looks like Century 21 on Black Friday in there. I wish she were a little bigger so I could fit into one of her 200 pairs of designer jeans. When I moved in, I discovered he kept one entire dresser drawer for just his cologne! It sounds like a car crash every time he opens it, but I let him keep that one. At least he always smells good.
On Sharing a Bathroom She has ultimately turned my personal “manctuary” (which is all marble with a two-person jacuzzi) into a Sephora/Aveda Salon. 7 a.m.: I awake to the steaming shower running. 8:30 a.m.: I re-awake to the incessant noise of the blowdryer. 9 a.m.: I get up for my cold shower (as there is no hot water left in the 200 gallon tank) and she slips back in while I’m showering to re-blowdry a piece of frizzy hair. Boy, I can’t wait to see next month’s ConEd bill… I used to participate in secret single girl behavior — spending hours in front of the mirror tweezing, squeezing and applying creams to ward off wrinkles and other blemishes. Now, if I’m in there longer than 10 minutes, I hear a knock on the door. He’s probably fighting for his mirror time, because he literally has three times the amount of products that I do. When I first saw the pink Mario Badescu drying lotion, I assumed it belonged to an ex-girlfriend — but no, it’s his.
On Cooking/Cleaning I must admit she does both quite well; but so does Blanca, our housekeeper who comes every few weeks. I suppose she supplements Blanca’s efforts, but Rainbow does it for free and she doesn’t use as much Pledge. She’s also great at finding doublets for my mismatching socks. He cooks, I clean. Although we both make an effort to cross over into each other’s realm, all attempts are futile. I know my place, he knows his. I do Windex. He does Chicken Francaise.
On Getting Frisky She has a “frisky quota” that I have to meet; I believe it is predicated on a weekly basis, but I really don’t know — the actual number is ambiguous and not fully revealed to me. Let’s just say, when she wants, she gets. I jokingly mentioned a “quota” we had to fulfill each week so that we’d never feel like roommates. And he’s taking it a little too seriously — I’m getting a bit spoiled here.

Catch this couple next time, as they share their he said/she said thoughts on their first vacation together — which includes a very long road trip, picking up a new puppy on the way, meeting his parents and then finally retreating to the beach.

This article is sponsored by “Romantications” at Royal Palms; however, the article is independently produced by The Frisky and the opinions and views expressed by the writers are their own.