Pre-emptive thoughts on "living with another person"

Friday night I had my last gathering with my Latin teacher friends. There are 6 of us in total, and only one guy. After half left around 10pm, as they had obligations: babysitters to relieve, husbands to go home to, and one last stop to make before the end of the night, the remaining 3 of us sat around talking until midnight.

I talked about how much I hate packing, and how packing the kitchen was the worst. The worst part about packing isn't so much the actual packing though. It is the knowing and being very aware of the fact that in just a few days I will have to go through the hell of unpacking it all. I would much prefer it if I packed all this stuff and it was just sent to some alternate universe where I never have to see it again. I would live forever with my 5 t-shirts, 1 pair of jeans, 1 dress, 2 pairs of shorts, some underwears, and 3 pairs of shoes: flippies, running shoes, and some croc-y type slide on things. It would be bliss.

I told them how I made a deal with CB: he unpacks the kitchen, I'll be responsible for the entire upstairs region of the house. But then... I had hesitations about giving him such a monumental task as unpacking the kitchen. What if he put the dishes in a bad place? What if I was constantly coming by, suggesting that he change around everything he just did because I did not find it suitable? Maybe I should just unpack THE WHOLE HOUSE just so it could be to my liking? And that's when it hit me: I am going to be living with another person. Forever.

And this person? He may not like the dishes where I like the dishes. He may not want the bookshelves there, he may want them here. He may not want to arrange the study area, which we will share, in that way. He may not like how I decorate the living room (and, unlike most guys, he does have an opinion about such things.) OH MY GOD I HAVE FOUND THE ROOT OF MARITAL CONFLICT.

My friend PR was asking about our bookshelves, as between us we have a total of 6 bookshelves, all very full (As SB says, I have a book problem). 3 are short (his) and 3 are tall (mine). She wanted to know where we planned on putting these shelves. As I pondered the options, she suggested we put the short shelves downstairs in the living room.

My response: "But won't it be weird to have a bunch of medical books hanging out in the living where guests will like, sit?"

Her response: "Well, put your books on them."

My response: (blank stare) I never thought about that. I never thought about putting my books anywhere other than my bookshelves. Oh my gosh. Our books will mesh. Our shelves will mesh.

The problem, if you could call it that, is that the bulk of the furniture, accent pieces, decorations, kitchenware, etc. that is going to fill our new house is my stuff. It has always been mine, not ours. I have lived alone since freshman year of college. I am used to doing everything my way.

Really, I want to share all I have with CB. I want it to be ours and not mine. But, I realized Friday night that it will take a lot more adjusting than I previously thought. I will have to relinquish control and maybe let him decide where the best place to put the dishes is. I may have to share my bookshelves (gasp!).

One thing I won't have to share? The closet. He is giving the ENTIRE master closet space to me, willingly, before I could even ask. He is a good man.

As for the rest of it? It will take some getting used to, but I am prepared for it, and if there is one thing CB and I are pretty good at (most of the time) it is communicating and compromising. My dad (who is divorced from my mom, mind you) always says this about marriage: Do you want to be right, or do you want to be married? I chose the latter.