I recently did a story about cohabiting couples for the women’s magazine I write for. While young marriages appear to be a regional trend in my observations from college and friends, the quoted statistics show the opposite effect–living together for a significant amount of time before marriage.
During my interview, I found several experts from the area who were severely opposed to the idea of cohabiting–quite hilarious actually since they did not know they were on the phone with someone who was seated next to their opposite sex roomie.
And while these experts spouted several statistics about the increases in domestic abuse, financial issues and prolonged, stagnant relationships that become a point of resentment, I have found several upsides to living with my mister.
So sorry, Reverend–I will have to disagree with you … again.
While my job is less than ideal and I often feel like I have encountered a road whale blocking my career path, it is nice to know I have someone to come home to that will be understanding, comforting and ready to listen to me vent. Whenever someone almost garrotes me for not accepting their coupon or my boss tells me my fifteen minute break was too fast/slow, I know it will all wash away when I pass over the threshold.
Living with A is a constant surprise. Sometimes I come home to a stack full of freshly cleaned dishes. Sometimes he will have found something wonderful for us to start watching (“Dexter”, or “Lie to Me”, or “Dogtown”–this guy has impeccable taste in TV and movies … although “Snakes on a Plane” is still sitting next to the Xbox unwatched … phew!)
And today I encountered one such surprise.
After returning home from an errand, A had a ham-y essence about him. I instantly jumped into interrogation mode, as I had a nice lunch planned that he was ruining due to his swine snacking. He quickly retorted with a “prove it!” when I questioned his untimely
Sometime later, I went back to prepare lunch, completely forgetting about the earlier altercation, when I found THIS.
I was completely prepared to develop my case with ham weight and shape recollections from the morning. I had ham photographic memories prancing about. I knew I had him. I knew I could prove him wrong when he claimed no ham foul play.
But instead, he hilariously took a cartoonish bite out of this meat slab, and put it back in the fridge.
Kind of disgusting. Kind of primal. But outrageously funny. And whether it’s an elaborate ham joke or a perfect taste in our nightly entertainment–I know A will keep surprising me with more things to make our every day new.
It is always thrilling to me to be able to reminisce, even when it’s about silly things in our short history together. I love that I can say, “Remember that dog wearing goggles?” or having our own language, saying “I’m parked on the parking ticket side,” or “I almost killed The Whistler today.”
Having someone to share my life with gives my current situation a bit of legitimacy in a time when I feel like I am merely spinning my wheels. I feel like in some parts of my life I am moving forward, doing some good and having someone be a witness to this formative part of my life. I feel like I matter, instead of feeling like a faceless drone.
So while our experts may say cohabiting is a bad idea because it just leads to mere short-term gains to replace wanted long-term rewards or I’m on the super highway to Shiner-ville, I think I will stay where I’m at.
And I’ll hide the ham.