I placed a deadline where he needed to make a decision. That time had arrived and there was no decision being communicated. (I know this makes me sound like a b***h, but if you knew Mike, you would understand that he needs, how do I say this, a little motivation...)
Mike lost his job last year, and he was not prepared to make any formal commit to me, just yet. He has this idea that if he should ever propose, he should be able to provide for the woman. It's a noble idea, granted. Now that he was unemployed, how could he provide, and as such how could he propose. This left me with the difficult decision of do I stay or do I go? I can tell you that it's not the most pleasant of places to be in, especially since I love the guy.
Our first evening back in town, over dinner, we discussed the difficult situation I found myself in. We had been with each other for three and a half years. I don't want to be one of those girls that books are written about....you know the book of "He's Just not that in to you." by Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo. I don't want to be strung along until he finds someone better.
He surprised me that evening. He asked me to move in with him. I was highly sceptical since the last time he asked me to move in, he backed out just as quickly.
I went silent, probably for the first time in my life. I listened carefully to all that he was saying. He wanted me to move in. He did not want me to move in because I would support him financially. He did not want me to contribute to his bond. He wanted me to move in because it was time to take this relationship to the next level.
I asked politely: "How long will this arrangement be for?"
"Six Months. If we can live with each other for six months then we should be able to live with each other for sixty years."
Being a guy who is not a romantic, I thought this was the closest thing to him being romantic.
He was serious! He does love me! He also wants to give me more! All I have to do is just be patient.
So the next day the move started. I started to bring around six boxes each day from my place. The amount that would fit into my car. The one thing I can honestly say is that I hate moving, as I'm sure many others do as well. All I wanted was for the move to be over and for life to continue, even though it had just started.
Not even a few days in, the stress started to get to me. The reality of what I was doing and the situation I was getting myself into financially, started to seriously dawn on me. As much as he protested, the reality was that I would be the sole provider for the next year (or the last six months of the year....) while he went back to studying and converted his diploma to a degree.
I was moving my entire house, with very little help, on my own and this was starting to seriously put a strain on me, mentally and physically. The fact that we stopped talking. We became distant physically as well. I was trying real hard to move on with life and to make it as painless for him as possible. He was busy processing the speed at which things started to progress, and everything else that was going on in his life.
All of this tension made me collapse. Thank goodness! Yes, thank goodness. It forced us to finally speak. It made us voice our concerns to each other. As we continued to talk, the stress started to ease. Once again we reconnected and felt close to each other again.
After a week and a half, all my things were in the house. Finally! All that remained is the unpacking of the last few boxes.
Throughout this whole experience, which has only been a few weeks into this new year, I can honestly say: "I have a HUGE amount of respect to all couples living together." I have also learnt that communication and compromise (from both sides) are paramount to making any relationship survive.
So here is a toast to communication.
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