Baby Steps

Sometimes I like to put on my PJs and watch TV in bed immediately after work. However, with Scott being over nonstop the last month or so, I've hidden my single behavior by changing into jeans and lounging in the living room. But this was a cloudy day and Scott had a spreadsheet and needed to talk; I put on the PJs, pulled my blankets to my chin, and turned on my Grey's Anatomy DVD.

When Scott walked in the door and saw me in bed, he chuckled to himself. Then he sat on top of the covers and pulled me to his chest. I flipped off the DVD and instead turned on the news. Baby steps.

"Where's the spreadsheet?" I asked after a couple minutes of silence.

"I accidentally left it at work."

"Well what did you want to talk about?"

"I don't want to tell you without the spreadsheet," he mumbled.

"Scott, you cannot say 'we need to talk' and not do it! That's just the rules!"

He shifted and looked back to the newscast. "Well, I made a spreadsheet of all my bills, and of all your bills--I didn't know to be exact, so I guessed on a few of them--and I figured out that if we move in together, I'll save about $200 a month, but you'll save over $500 a month."

Drool collected in the corner of my mouth and my eyes glazed over. $500 a month. What I could do with $500 a month. I could finally put together a nice down payment on a new car and then afford a monthly payment on said car. I could buy clothes again. I could start saving real money and afford real vacations... I could live like a normal person and not as an imposter in a nice neighborhood like I have been for the past year and a half...

Then my mind wrapped around what Scott was really saying. Scott wanted to move in my apartment. Scott wanted to move in together.

My pretty, little loft is exactly that: little. It's the most efficient use of 600 square feet (66 m²) I've seen outside of an IKEA showroom, and it's fine for my dog and me, but I don't believe it's big enough for two people, even if they do share a bed. With it's open floor plan and half-walls, there are no doors to slam when someone gets angry. I spent four hours the other weekend cleaning out my closet to try to make room for a shirt or two of his, and I came out with about six inches of space for him.

And that's another thing: it's my closet and my air-conditioning. Scott knows better than to touch either. If he gets hot, he'll tell me and I'll bump the AC; under no terms is he to touch it. Ever. I'm territorial and this is my apartment. It would be difficult for me to realize that if he moved in, he could do what he wanted with the AC.

"When were you thinking about moving in?" I asked. His lease is up in March, and mine is up in April; maybe I wouldn't be so crazy over ACs and hanger space if we found a neutral apartment together.

"That would be up to you."

"What about April?"

Scott frowned. "Er, I wasn't thinking of waiting that long. I can get out of my lease now if I wanted to. I'm serious about you, Sarah. I want to see where this goes."

But it's only been three months! my head shrilled. At five years my senior, moving in together is probably not as big a deal for Scott as it is for me. He's been married and has had at least one live-in girlfriend that I know of. He's done this before; I haven't. I've always done what Scott and I fell into--staying over semi-permanently but still having another place to go to should he/she need it. Not counting the fact my parents would shit actual bricks if I lived in sin. Especially since they haven't heard me even mention a boy's name in two years and had probably written me off for the girl squad. To all of a sudden have a boyfriend and be living with him... it's too much.

"I'm not ready," I stated. Look at me, the girl who wanted everything Scott's given me, turn him down.

"But I haven't even been in my apartment but four or so nights in the past six weeks," he countered. "Even when you were on vacation, I stayed here. We're actually wasting money because I'm here anyway."

"But there is security in knowing you have your own place, even if you don't use it." And I kissed that $500 a month goodbye.

"How did Scott take it?" Amber texted back when I told her the news.

"Fine. He had to know it was too soon," I wrote back. I never even considered he could take it any other way.