A House Is Not A Home

...when C's not in it.

No I've not finally caved in to my unspoken love for C - that's how it is in the real world, you don't wake up and find you're in love with your housemate. You just just end up hoovering the messy bedroom they've left behind and finding the books they left behind.

Our transition from housemates to friends who live separately began on Saturday, when we spent most of the Eurovision Song Contest, texting each withering commentary, complete with a few laugh out loud moments.

Yesterday we caught up for all of about 10 minutes, I was on the way out and he had hangover.

Then I saw him briefly before he went up to bed.

“It’s our last night and you’re going to bed early” I complained, sticking out my tongue.

“Yep”, he said smirking…”You’ll be fine. It’ll be quiet around here though”

“Ain’t that the truth” I replied.

“And just to let you know I’ll be up 30 mins later in the morning, so you get a bit longer in the bathroom”

“It’s like you’ve gone already” I said wistfully.

This morning I took my time getting ready and sleeping beauty emerged just as I was leaving, still sleepy eyed and in his dressing gown, like a small boy about to get ready for school.

“Well this is it then “ I said a little sadly.

“Aye” he said, scuffing his feet along the pile of the carpet. “Although if I can’t move all of my stuff tonight, I might stay tonight and move the rest of my things tomorrow, if that’s alright with you”

“That’s fine I said. Well I think we better hug it out then, just in case I don’t see you again”

I got the bear hugs of all hugs and then he said “I’ll text you later, just so you know what I’m doing”
.
“Yes, that would be great I said. Have a good day cherub”

“You too pet and if I do leave today, I’ll see you at the weekend for a coffee and a catch-up”

As I closed the front door and walked to the bus stop, I was a little sad and happy. This perfect stranger has become one of my best buddies and taught me that the friendship, just like a relationship can be a slow burn, but when it’s right you just can’t beat it.

He’s also restored my faith in my ability to live with a man, let somebody into my space, be accepting of all their ‘stuff’ and weird quirks and not run for the hills screaming, when things aren’t exactly as I want them.

Agreed this was much easier to do without the pressure of a romantic entanglement and the hope that living together will lead somewhere, but the most important thing is I opened up and surprise, surprise no one died.

I’m not the complete emotional icecube basketcase I thought I was and hell if C says I’m ok, I can’t be that bad can I?