passthumb.jpgFor the first time in over four years, Charlie and I are living alone. Together, that is. Not with a housemate. It’s very odd. Surreal. Has yet to sink in.

When Cavan left yesterday evening, it was very much like he was just going to his parents’ house for the night and would be back the next day. It was all
“Okay, have a good time.”
“See you later.”
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”
“I never do.”
And with a ruffling of the dogs’ heads he was out the door.

Charlie and I went upstairs and looked at the new spare room and sunroom that would be ours to fill. It felt empty. I wasn’t too emotional since Cavan and I weren’t all that close and things have been a bit weird since he first decided to apply to the Spain program. I’m not going to say I’m “happy” he’s gone. I’m also not going to pretend that it hasn’t been difficult to maintain a healthy relationship with my partner all this time we’ve had Cavan or Kate living with us.

But when Alvy came slinking in with his ears back and his tail down, I started to cry. All I could think was Alvy looked really confused walking around Cavan’s now-empty room. Was he thinking he lost his buddy? Was he upset in some sort of canine way? I promised myself I wouldn’t do some anti-Cesar Millan thing and project my worries over Alvy’s loneliness on to him, making him even more neurotic.

Charlie and I decided to take both the dogs for their third walk, just to keep Alvy occupied. I’m sure pretty soon his little doggie brain will forget who Cavan was, or at least forget that he was expecting Cavan to come back.

Maybe we’re both a little bit jealous that he gets to do this and we don’t. But I think it’s more like that ship has sailed. Maybe setting up the DVR to record all of the NBC shows on Thursday nights (but not “ER” or “Scrubs.” I hate both of those shows) isn’t as thrilling as blogging from Barcelona. But there is something to be said for hooking up your own utilities, owning a toaster, and getting your dogs’ vaccinations on time every year. Being responsible can be boring to some people, but I find comfort in the semi-predictability of my little life. Things will probably change drastically again in less than two years, so I’ll continue to enjoy this while I can.


8 thoughts on “Housemate-less

  1. Change is always difficult, even when it’s something that you really want.

    As far as the mundane… I think there is a time in your life to have roots and a home life, and a time to roam. I really don’t think you can have both.

  2. When Michael and I finally had the house to ourselves it was different, in a good, we’re finally able to be married sort of way. There is a very special intimacy between a committed couple that can’t be there when someone else is in the home. It’s not to say having a roommate is bad, it’s just different. And it doesn’t allow a couple to be completely and utterly free to be a couple. Now, you can have sex on the kitchen table and it won’t matter. No worry that someone will come home unexpectedly. Enjoy it darl’n. It’s a great feeling.

  3. Don’t be jealous of him going to Europe; he won’t enjoy it because no one will be there to do his laundry and make his PB&Js. Besides, he’s lived a sheltered life and will no doubt wind up in some hostel where dumb white Americans are ass-raped and then carved up.

    Now, go look at all the extra space and make some plans.

  4. Sorry. Play fetch with Alvy and let him chew on your forearm for awhile, and he’ll be fine. That’s all I do.

    Goodbyes are weird enough, so I tried to be quick so it was less weird for you guys. But I did leave a note. Thank you again.

    Fuck you, Jay. And I mean that as kindly as possible.

  5. Oh Cavan. Grow a pair. In all seriousness, take this chance to be something you couldn’t be here in the US.
    When I was your age, life kicked my ass into a new situation, and it got me away from a coddled life.

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