KirstenL4W

“Anything I’ve ever done that ultimately was worthwhile…initially scared me to death.” - Betty Bender

There’s something that’s been weighing on my mind lately. Last night, I went to my apartment to get some packing done, but also to have a chance to be alone with my thoughts. I love Boyfriend and I love spending time with him, and I really do want to spend every minute of the day with him. But I am one who also needs some alone time, and I’ve been forgetting about that until it gets to a point where it becomes a critical need. So I went to my apartment last night, packed, wrote in my journal, cried, packed some more, and watched some TV that I had saved on my DVR.

Yes, I cried. Not because I am upset at all about the decision to move in with Boyfriend. I’m not, but I will admit to this: I am scared. Yes, that’s right. Scared. I said previously that I have never lived with anyone in this capacity before. My entire adult life I have spent carving out a place for myself, learning not to rely on anyone and creating a comfortable place for myself. I grew so comfortable with my aloneness (not to be confused with loneliness) that in the past few years, I shunned all efforts to find myself a partner. I was not lonely. I have friends, companions, and I made sure that I had everything that I needed. The only thing I did not do to confirm my impending spinsterhood was to get a cat. I was actually worried that being on my own and alone for so long may have messed up my chances for ever being able to have a successful relationship. Yes, my thoughts ran away from me and I actually got to thinking that perhaps I was meant to be alone.

So now, here I am today, on the verge of living with a wonderful man for a very, very long time, and it’s got me scared sh!tless. There are so many things that I need to adjust to, so many habits to relearn, so many attitudes to change if I want to make this work. When I got home last night I broke down and cried again. This has been bogging down my mind for the last few days, and I really debated on whether or not to tell him. I didn’t want it to be taken the wrong way, and I still needed to sit on it a little bit to sort it out in my head and to articulate my feelings properly. But I finally decided that telling him was best. And do you know what? He is having the same feelings. He’s also grown used to having his own space, having things his way, and doing things for himself. His fears are very similar to mine. He just keeps it together so much better than I do.

I am in the middle of a lot of upheaval right now. My apartment is half packed up, and I haven’t spent the night at home in a month. I still only have the basics at Boyfriend’s house - enough clothing for a little over a week, and some toiletries. So it’s not yet been transformed into our space. Living like that for so long now has got me - a person with a seemingly insatiable need for alone time and private space - really freaked out. But I will get through, and this will be so worth it. I’m really happy that the Boyfriend is the kind of person that I can talk through this sort of thing with.

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