Survival

B and I at Sir Sanford Flemming Park in Halifax, June 2010

As of July 18, we’ve conquered a year of cohabitation. For nearly 11 of those months I’ve been a crazy, super-emotionally charged, overworked and underpaid, Masters student mess.

We still have 11 plants — my babies — growing strong, but we walk through the dog park and talk about what dog we’d pick if we could have one.

We visit our families as much as possible, but have relished in few family-free vacays, like our recent trip to Halifax. We also visit his heterosexual life partner in Saskatoon and my BFF in Calgary.

We frequent CFL football games and play soccer almost every Thursday.

For the most part, living together is fun.

I rarely miss living downtown anymore (except for the walking everywhere thing, and the huge apartment thing). But we’ve gotten the hang of summer entertaining, with people overflowing to the lawn, and running barefoot to the school across the street to play touch football.

It’s fun to make plans, and go on little dates to fabulous new (to us) restaurants, but it’s also fun to go our separate ways and meet up for cuddles at bed time.

If this year is any indication of how the next many, many years go, we’re off to a pretty good start.