You know the score; you’ve been together a while and while it's going well and all, the thought of moving in together and taking that ‘next step’ fills you with the dread of a thousand dark days in hell. No WAY are you old/mature enough to move in with a real life boy. Moving in together only leads to marriage, right? And while your freinds from home are all happily taking the walk down the aisle, you with your super-cool urban lifestyle feel horrified at the thought of doing anything in a big white dress that doesn’t involve you being the Bride of Chuckie for Halloween.
And so you continue on with your half life, spending a couple of days at his house, and a couple of days at yours, and while that’s fun, it does mean you’ve now got some really cool extra problems to deal with in your life. Stuff like...
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You smell like a man and your face looks like shit
Buying another set of beauty products to leave at his house would feel like kind of a big deal, right? Plus, he’d just use them all anyways (my boyfriend is going through a ‘let’s play face mask’ stage ATM) and nobody’s got enough money to keep that kind of habit up. And so you continue using his Lynx deodorant (why men still think it’s acceptable to use this nectar of teenage boys throughout their 20s is beyond us) and the moisturiser he begrudgingly bought for 50p from Sainbury’s that leaves you with an nose so oily it could pass for a slip ’n’ slide.
The nightly pant washing is your new before bed activity (sorry sex!)
The likely pants situation at his is that there’s a pile of your dirty pants that’s been building up at the end of the bed over the past few months. It’s therefore now become part of your nightly routine (after face washing, before teeth brushing) to wash today’s pants in the sink with shower gel, shampoo or whatever other cleaning agent you can get your hands on. Sure they’re still a bit damp in the morning, and the weird soap causes a curious reaction down there, but at least you’re clean.
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Your new fashion sense
It’s 1am, you’re drunk, and you’ve got work tomorrow, so naturally heading to his house (45 minutes away) rather than yours (an easy 20) is the only sensible option. As a result, you’re left with two options in the morning, neither of which seems palatable on a monster hangover: either you can wear the same thing as yesterday or you can attempt to fashion some sort of outfit out of whatever you can find on his bedroom floor. This was how you learned the hard way that boyfriend jeans aren’t really meant to be your actual boyfriend’s jeans on account of him having narrow hips and a small bum and you having a breakdown because you can’t fit into them.
The constant FOMO
Seeing your friends was already a constant battle, what with all the fun commitments in your life such as work, other friends and that netball club you stupidly signed up to thinking it would be ‘a right lol’ and which now takes up two evenings out of your week. Factor in three nights a week at your boyfriend’s and you’ve just cut your socialising time in half. This is how you came to find out that your best friend got engaged. When you saw pictures of her wedding on Facebook. Nice work.
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Picture: Rory DCS
This article originally appeared on The Debrief.