The Blue House

5 de febrero del 2017, domingo 

We were tired of paying double rent and as Fitz was always at the 8th street house, it only made sense to move in with one another but where? Neither of us had enough for a deposit for our own apartment and the long leases seemed really intimidating. My room was too small for the both of us let alone all of our stuff (you know, all that stuff you wonder why you have when you are packing it). Fitz boldly offered his place as an option. He said he would talk to his Tia and the cousins but was certain they would be fine with it.

I was nervous! I had only been over a few times but knew that he lived with three male cousins and his 3-year-old niece. I had met the cousins a handful of times and was worried they would think some bossy chick was going to move in and take over.

The only time I had spent time alone at the blue house was to watch the Royal Wedding. I felt like I had to sneak in and stay as quiet as possible so the cousins wouldn’t know I was there.

Fitz came home around 3:00am and grabbed us a couple of beers from the refrigerator. He walked into the room with a big ecstatic smile and we drank and snuggled in bed until we both passed out.

I knew then that there was no need to be nervous. The blue house was going to be the right move. It would be our new home while we saved money to attain our dreams.

I broke the news to my mother, who was not pleased at all. She was worried that the relationship would be unsuccessful and I’d be left out on the street. I told her it wouldn’t happen. We were too invested in each other and we would only stay as long as it took for us to save enough money for our own place. She didn’t seem too convinced but knew there was no point trying to talk me out of it. My mind was set and the decision was already made. The blue house would be our home for the next two years of our relationship.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: