Brick House.

So, apparently, I have moved in with my boyfriend.

Quite a terrifying way of putting it really.

I can honestly say that I hadn't really thought of it that way until only a day or two ago. We have been alone together in our student house for over a month now with our friends returning to their homeland as and when they finished university.

But the very fact that this place is ours. It is just the two of us. In films, on television, people sit down and talk about it over dinner. They put keys in ring boxes and they get mistaken for engagement rings. They make the conscious decision to invite them into their home, they both collaborate and decide they want to share that space, the food and the bills altogether.

I can't remember us ever doing this.

I can't think about the moment that we decided that this was what we were going to do.

I'm really glad we are here, sitting in our new living room (for those who don't know, we lived with a WEIRDO last year who we gave up our living room for and then he disappeared... POOF... and so the idea of a room in which we can watch television ON REAL LIFE COUCHES is very exciting!) and feeling like we have lived in this little place for much much longer than we have.

And so, I think that the key is not to stress about the label too much. I'm not going to see it as a serious step, a boy and a girl moving into a place together for the first time. It is a mere extension of what we have been doing for the past two years. This time, not including bills.