Damn gypsy curses again!

[muckefuck]

Last night, I fixed a lovely dinner of lomo, tortilla (that's a Spanish-style omelette, mind you, not anything corn-based), and salad for monshu and me. Then, out of the blue, he mentioned apartment-hunting and I had such an attack of anxiety that I could hardly eat any of it.

Supposedly, we were to spend this summer checking out open houses and the like in the hopes of buying a larger place together next year. In actual practice, we've done nothing of the sort. There are all kinds of excuses the two of us could come up with if pressed, but I took it all as prima facie evidence that we were both a little dubious about the project. After all, he only consented to go ahead with this in the spring when I pressured him and after he agreed so readily that it made me a little dizzy, I immediatly began having second thoughts myself. It's tough to say exactly about what; any reasoned objection I could make could easily be counter-argued. Some of the anxiety is dread of home buying and all that it entails (moreso since both our places would have to be sold), but a lot of it is ascribable only to vaguer uncertainties about the future.

None of my relationships has ever been subject to any kind of plan. I went ahead with what felt right at the time, trying as hard as I could not to have definite ideas about what would happen, since they'd only come undone one way or another. As of next year, this will officially count as the longest LTR monshu's ever been in (it already is for me) and we'll be in uncharted waters. If we had pushed ahead earlier, there'd've been a scary sort of exhilaration to balance out the nameless dread. But we were prudent and didn't rush things and I feel like the compensation for that should be a calm confidence that the next step is desirable and logical almost to the point of inevitability. But instead it feels like another big risk with lots of potential for messy disaster. What the hell?

Comments

[snowy-owlet.livejournal.com]

The thing about doomsaying is that, half the time, you're forecasting someone else's doom when you think it's your own.

[bitterlawngnome.livejournal.com]

It's all uncharted waters. Ride the waves or drown.

[bunj.livejournal.com]

For me, it's always a joy to see the two of you together. You compliment each other so well, and the love is clearly there. I can understand your concerns: both of you are very particular about your living space, and few things can muck up a perfectly good love affair better than the annoyances of daily living. Thankfully, both you are coming into this with your eyes open. What helped -e and I a lot were several frank conversations about boundaries and expectations. We have a cleaning service come in every two weeks, for example, which got rid of a lot of petty arguments. I have designated areas for my messes, etc. I think you know each other well enough to anticipate what your areas of conflict will be, and work things out ahead of time.

Living together will always be a big step. I'm not sure one can entirely be calm and confident about it. Heck, the nervousness can be part of the fun. Just remember that looking is not a commitment. Good Luck.

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

We are so getting maid service for the new place. That has been my dream for years.

[(Anonymous)]

This afternoon is uncharted waters, baby.

You two should probably sit down with an accountant (or a financial planner who doesn't need to sell you anything) and see how your two properties can best be leveraged into one. Or three. You may not have to sell them- maybe they just become inevstments.

[foodpoisoningsf.livejournal.com]

Sorry, that was my offering of unsolicited karma and financial advice.

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

We need to sit down with a lot of people. I still don't have a will, for instance. That was another thing we said we'd take care of this year and we've let slide.

[princeofcairo.livejournal.com]

"All I know is, he wanted to be buried with his beloved Hippocrene books beside him."

[grahamwest.livejournal.com]

For some reason I'm getting the image of a marble bust with the braid dangling behind, forever plaited.

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

If you can find a man who can braid marble, I totally want to meet him.

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

That's it! Get me an attorney on the line--NOW!