The End of the Single
I’ve lived alone for eight years. So, coincidentally, has my boyfriend. We spend every night together (except for that week when we were broken up that we spent apart because…well, we were broken up) and we both want to live together and, as of now, commit to each other for life. I’m not packing yet, but I am considering this drastic possibility. After all, I’m 33 and have never lived with a man (not counting when I was 23 and lived with a possibly gay/bi-sexual roommate who smoked a lot of pot and casually read tarot cards…which should never be read casually)….Anyway, this idea of living with someone and creating a home for two, instead of flying solo has been taking up a lot of space in my head. It prevents erectile dysfunction and cures free samples levitra premature ejaculation. But alas! This acquisition de viagra cute-n-tiny.com is a bitter truth for many. States, that have allowed its sale are going to double within the following five years. on line cialis It not only causes embarrassment you could check here cialis tablets uk at front of the partner but also affect their relationship badly. The idea of shopping at Trader Joe’s for two people, and paying taxes for two people, and seems so strange and foreign to me…it almost feels like I’m breaking some rule someone made for my life having to do with my adherence to a strict religion of rugged individualism. It also, like most rites of passage, feels like I’m the first one to do it. Kind of like when I started smoking clove cigarettes when I was 12 (though, I WAS the first of MY FRIENDS), or like when I first made out with a guy and he mauled my face with this tongue (which is not what kissing looked like in the movies). It just feels so different, that I’m worried it could be wrong. And yet, the thrill and freedom of my single life in my fabulous single apartment started to fizzle out along with the last episode of Sex and the City (minus the deus ex machina ending where Big became emotionally available…when did he go to therapy?).
The point is: I’m ready for the next phaze of my vida (and, quite frankly, at 33, there are some – though I won’t say who – looking at their watch like, “It’s about time, Kiddo! – and you know who you is)
Just for today, I’m willing to live with a man (preferably my boyfriend).