A Tree of Our Own

C: We always spoke about moving in before we moved in. We spoke about where we would live and debated our respective hometowns to be the better choice. We discussed matters of importance such as where the closest bars and beer distributors were. Oh and the less significant -  proximity to work and budget. We spoke about everything in order to make the wisest choice.  When we finally found our palace of an apartment, we had a wonderful experience choosing paint colors and shopping for furniture. We had a number of pleasant visits to Ikea and Home Goods, joking and selecting decor and such with mutual ease. I thought the hardest part about moving would be getting all of our stuff into the apartment and it kind of was. There wasn't any space for my stuff! She filled all the dressers and both closets. She was considerate and gave me space underneath one of our side tables. She also suggested I get rid of some of my clothes and other necessities. I'm not sure where my things are now but hey, the apartment is really nice!

M: They were NOT kidding when they said you really get to know someone once you move in together. It was a little difficult packing my belongings with him saying No, you can't take that and No, we won't have room for that every two seconds. No no no no no. Who invited the Party of No to this affair? He didn't even want to take the furniture I had. Which makes all those long, painful hours at Ikea and other relationship-trap stores even more mind-boggling. He'd pick out a piece of furniture (with great excitement, might I add), I'd subsequently grab it for our cart, and before I could say Great choice, babe! he'd hit me with a Why would you get that? You know we don't need that. Now, I know what you're thinking. Same thing I was thinking: Huh? But didn't he just say... hmm. He would of course pair this Jedi mind trick with a look of judgement that implied I was out to plummet us into debtor's hell. After going through this a dozen times, I got tired of his Dr. Jekyll/Hyde furniture/spending act and decided he should do the shopping alone. He suggested this was a sign of my not being enthusiastic about the building of our home. Far from the truth. What I lost enthusiasm for was unpacking all of his "necessities". It was a good thing he convinced me to pack light. There would have never been enough room for my things and his BOXES upon BOXES of t-shirts (which all look the same, by the way), basketball shorts, and life-size toys. I've tried to explain to him that man cannot live on t-shirts alone, in an attempt to get at least one more drawer in the dressing room. But I just got relegated to a fabric box instead of the dresser (he needed more space for his socks). I guess I could always store things at work.