Apartmenticipation

(source)

(Bruschetta Disclaimer: I've written this fully realizing the topic can be controversial to some, but wanted to share my experience nonetheless!)

Several weeks ago, I was preparing for a major life moment. Together with my mister, we put down the deposit, selected the unit and scheduled the move-in day. After over seven years together, Mr. Bruschetta and I finally got our own place. And I was a bigger jumble of emotions than I expected.

I was nervous. I'm a world-class worrier. (It's an inherited trait from Mama Bruschetta's side.) And fretting over ridiculous minutiae is a habit I haven't been able to break. Raise your hand if you've experienced unease wondering if your toothpaste tube habits will rankle his. (I'm sheepishly raising mine.)

I was stressed. I just couldn't marshal my thoughts well enough to plan for this move. From packing my clothes to organizing boxes from college and grad school to emptying my desk and dressers, it seemed like there was an endless to-do list, and I had no idea where to start.

I was wistful. Sure, I've lived away from home. But, for the past year, I'd been back with my parents. And I knew I'd miss seemingly insignificant things like watching the clips Mama Bruschetta's saved on Tivo -- and less trivial ones like eating dinner with both parental Bruschettas.

But, above all, I was excited. I love this man so much. Prior to the move, coordinating our schedules was super tough (despite the fact that we lived in the same town!), and I usually only got to see him once or twice a week. Uh-huh, you read that correctly. I really couldn't wait to try out new recipes together, or snuggle up on the couch for a casual date night.

Our wedding marks the official start of "us," but we've already started our trial run a few short weeks ago.

Did you move in with your fiance before getting engaged or while planning your wedding? Or, did you wait to cohabitate after the wedding?