I knew Very Handsome Guy had an undergraduate degree in Psychology and a graduate degree in Social Work. I knew that most of the friends he’d talked about were friends from college. So Saturday night after dinner it was going to be me, the 32-year old guy with a high school diploma, VHG and 6 or 8 of his friends from college all with graduate degrees.
I didn’t know what to do to prepare for this. I mean, its not like I could ‘cram’ for a graduate degree.
I decided that VHG liked me enough to introduce me to his friends, and if they are his friends, hopefully they'd be nice like him. So I met them, and they were all nice, but I felt inadequate most of the time. In fact, it would take a few years before I could stop feeling like ‘less’ than them. It wasn't their fault; it was my own insecurity.
The next day, Sunday, Very Handsome Guy asked me if I would be interested in going to some real estate open houses with him. He had been considering buying a condo or townhouse and thought he might get an idea for what was out there by walking through some open houses. I told him I’d love to, and confessed that I used to walk through model homes, even though I had no intention of purchasing, just for decorating ideas.
Visiting open houses became our Sunday routine for several weeks. One Sunday in July (about 2 months after we met) we were inside a house that I thought was not worth considering. At some point in the home’s history some walls had been moved, creating a very awkward floor plan. The stairs going to the 2nd floor were inside a 1st floor bedroom!
Since all the houses we toured where older homes, most of which had lots of charm and character, Very Handsome Guy asked me what I thought of this particular house. Not wanting to sound too opinionated I said “Well, its not what I think that matters; its what you think. You’re the one who’s house hunting.”
His response stunned me. I believe you could have knocked me over with a feather when he said “Well, I want to know what you think because I'm hoping you’ll be living with me, and I want you to like it.”
There it was. He’d said it. He’d crossed the line. No longer were we just two guys having a good time dating and hanging out together. He’d basically just asked me to move in with him.
Really, I’m not sure why this was such a surprise to me. In reality, we’d already begun living together, just not officially. The week after our ‘4 dates within 6 days’ we’d begun staying overnight at each other’s places. Most of the time I’d stay at his place because after work I’d stop by my condo for a change of clothes, then meet him at his place about the same time he’d get home from work. Gradually I began bringing more than one change of clothes so I didn’t have to stop by my place every day. In reality we were already living together, but since I still had my place I guess it didn’t seem the same as ‘living together’.
So I told him the truth: I didn't like the house. So we continued looking until we found a house we both felt comfortable in. It wasn't our 'dream home', but it was a great start.
3 months later in October we both moved out of our condos and into a house we picked out together. The following month we hosted our first Thanksgiving dinner, which was attended by his parents, sister, brother-in-law, their two children, two of his three brothers, his sister-in-law, and two of our friends. We’ve hosted Thanksgiving for his family, my aunt, and countless friends every year since then.
Crush du Jour: Mark Webber