I don’t want to wonder if this is a blunder…

by Kate

I don’t want to worry whether we’re going to stay together ’til we die…

I hate posting my relationship status on Facebook.

I hate how public it makes everything. I hate how people comment, seemingly to congratulate me for having found someone to put up with my shit. As if it solves anything. As if it makes anything at all better. I know they’re just happy that I seem to have found some happiness, and I appreciate the support, but waving a banner that says “I DONE TRICKED SOMEONE INTO LIKING ME” seems… gross.

But, yes. Yes. I am in a relationship. Grinding my teeth and wringing my hands and grumbling all the way, but here I am. Yes.

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Stop looking so goddamned smug, Jeremy.

It’s complicated/helped along by the fact that I moved in with him two weeks ago. My roommate situation was… not going well, and I knew that I’d have my own room here and that he’s enough of a sucker to put up with my nonsense. Silly bastard thinks he’s in love with me! The fool!

But, seriously. It’s easy to be with Jeremy. It’s fun! We get along really well. Things are good. We laugh a lot. He is very patient and kind and he isn’t sleeping with a bevy of 19-year-olds on the side and I don’t think he’s going to leave me because he’s feeling “itchy.” So far he’s shown no signs of being controlling or abusive. He didn’t have a dramatic personality shift as soon as I moved in, and he doesn’t seem to have a drinking problem.

I keep trying to trip him up, to make him be anything less than perfectly wonderful, but he refuses. I’m starting to believe that he might actually be, y’know, a good person. Good for me. Everything he seems to be and maybe more.

Maybe in six months we’ll be arguing about money. Maybe in a year we’ll be fighting about my bitchiness or the fact that he soaks the bathroom floor when he showers. Maybe five years from now we’ll hate each other. Maybe in 50 years we’ll die together of simultaneous heart attacks from having vigorous sex in the retirement home. Who can say?

Edited to ad some art by Tiffany Eby, who read this and decided to get cheeky:

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