So it's been a long, long.. looooong... endeavour. Since spring of last year when me and my boyfriend of four years started looking, we've walked through dozens of houses, put in offers on half a dozen, had an offer accepted and waited an extra two months for them to be able to move everything out because we weren't really in a rush. But for the last four years (because really, I became a permanent fixture on his couch two months in) I've lived in his house, owned technically by his dad in a duplex sort of situation, so it was never "my space". As welcome as I was, I couldn't have my things here, I went home intermittently to my parents house to see my poor kitty and exchange clothes and sleep in my bed once a week, so it was still very awkward.
But as of yesterday, we have finally taken possession of the house. We went in, took measurements, got ideas and just sat on the floor to marvel that this is ours. But it's like.. holy shit... this is adulthood.
But as of yesterday, we have finally taken possession of the house. We went in, took measurements, got ideas and just sat on the floor to marvel that this is ours. But it's like.. holy shit... this is adulthood.
