Full Disclosure.

The MMM hasn't a mustache any more.
Nor does he drive an M series, its something else by Beamer, an 'S' series something.
Though, he's still a bit mysterious.
So, the MMM isn't really fitting, now is it?
His name is Jim.

My Not My House Home.

So, I'm lounging here, with hot coffee in a mug and Bon Iver playing on my itunes, reading recaps and pinning pins, and I feel so... Comfortable.
I'm at home. Even though it is not technically mine, I would much rather be here, with a couch and a bed, and the energy that has built up in this newish condo in suburban Irvine between me and M. Here, we are happy.
Here, we lounge watching Our Shows, with Our Cats, and Our Vera Wang hi ball tumblers that we found at Home Goods together for $4 a piece. Here, we has quite literally created a space that is just that, Ours.
And though we have not been together long, and though I still (and will) have my own place far away at the beach, this space have become a combination of both our tastes.
Modern and new, mixed with vintage and old. The whimsy of a boy who spent some time in college staring at lava lamps and listening to Jimi Handrix, with the hints of a girl with likes to decorate with books and flowers, and has done so since college. I mean it's his place, so it is reflective of both his grown up tastes (that light fixture, dark woods) & and his boyish good nature (Math Art! Lime Green! Psuedopsychedelic prints), but its come together well.

Remember his old place?
When I walked in, and thought 'This guy needs a girlfriend.'
Well... He has one now.
This is my Not My House Home.
And I love it.
So, I snapped some pictures. Bear in mind, I'm in Irvine.
And its not done.
And I am no magician.
I arrived at a shell: a couch, a coffee table and a dining room table.
Oh, and a God awful brass light fixture over the dining room table.
We've done everything as a team, together.
Next up: the closet and then the bathroom.
Though, I did ask if he still wanted to do his orginal (teal/Casbah-inspired) idea for the bathroom last night and he looked at me and sweetly said, 'No. Do whatever you want.'

The Living Room (I originally wrote: The Loving Room, which was a mistake, but Hmmm...)

Mug, coffee filled.
Pillows, Restoration Hardware.
Shelf, Ikea - with findings from life, Ikea, Anthro.
Wine crate, gift from my old shop.
One of my favorite things ever.

Coffee Table book purchased on our way home from Palm Springs,
at the James Perse outlet.
It is not, in fact, by James Perse but only
JP-Approved.
Kate Spade 5 Burroughs coaster.

Why yes, that is a First Edition book of Poems.
Yes, M has read them aloud to me.

Over the Fireplace.

Behind the front door.
This is the sconce that prompted the balance conversation.
Anthro, for like thirty two bucks.

Vintage Bar Cart, also from the old shop.
Now serving as a valet stand & bookcase by the front door.
Yes, I have moved some of my furniture in.

Dining Area.

He gets flowers every weekend while I am at work.
The checkers always ask if he is trying to 'get out of the doghouse?'
'No, I just like fresh flowers...'

Dining area. That light fixture is what started it all.
Yes, those are 'Math' paintings.
Left to his own devices on Etsy.

Bedroom.

Kat Moss' new digs.
Johnathon Adler lamps.
(We have since moved the picture up about five inches.)

So its colorful, its a little irreverent (?)
...and it finally feels like people live here.
Because, they do.
Happily.
With two cats.

Sweet Satisfaction.

A Wise Woman said to me, via IM today, after a catch up & fill in session,

'We are adults! We used to borrow keg taps now we borrow paint primer.'

Or...

Lazy Girl.

I gave myself permission to spend the entire day bouncing between Pinterest, facebook & tumblr, all while doing my nails, putting off doing my hair, listening to Lana Del Rey, washing my white jeans to wear on my daily day off trip to TJ Maxx and drinking many many cups of black coffee.
Don't worry Mom, I also had a bagel & cream cheese.
I am being Lazy and Content in my Not My House Home.
I'm slowly cleaning up, though the place is so clean from my last day off on Monday, M cancelled his cleaning lady for the day.
Actually, I'm gonna take some pictures.
In a bit.

Geometrics.

One of the best things about M is that after writing it all down yesterday, and feeling the catharsis that comes along with putting all my thoughts into one cohesive idea (rant, ramble, what you will), is that after all that & the fear and the insecurity - the best thing about Us is that I can tell him all of it. I can tell him about the fear, and the writing, and the general ease I feel now after writing, and he just smiles and understands and loves me.

'The way I feel about it, he said, is that if we [our relationship] were a graph, it would start here (he motioned with his arm) and just keep going up.'

Without belittling me, or my feelings, but while still letting me know that, at this point on the graph, my fear is unwarranted, and simply that - just a fear.

And I feel better.
Whole.
I am happy.
And in Love.
And I deserve to be.

Also, Goldi's Golden Birthday is approaching... 
We need ideas for a Birthday Party. 

the Fear.

I'm at a crux.
I don't know if thats the word for it, really, but it seems to do, so go with it.
So, I'm at a crux.
Not with M (who these days is sans mustache) but with myself within the relationship. Its odd, because from the get go I have been 'myself' with him, and we have something truly wonderful and open and grown up with our relationship. But, after over two months of dating, and essentially living with him in his condo that we decorated, I am starting to feel... The Fear.
The Fear of losing something so wonderful. These little tentacles of insecurity creeping up and over and onto me, my thoughts, my hugs, my kisses. When we first started dating, I would abstain from talking about him too much, getting bitchy at anyone who even mentioned the 'L' Word, panicking at the thought of all this and all that, panicking at the thought of jinxing something so wonderful.
My friends even asked if  'I was into this guy'.
I was.
And yet, we moved forward, sweetly and wonderfully and into the world of whispered I love you's and I love you very much so's.

And now I am terrified. Not of what I was once so afraid of - letting someone in, letting something be real, being responsible for someone else's happiness. But I am terrified of losing him, losing this. Of him changing his mind, and falling out of love with me.
Maybe, at my core, thats what I was afraid of all along.
I can't have another man walk in and say he's changed his mind. 
I hate that I have easily and without fear put so much on to Us.
No that isn't true, I don't hate it.
I love it. But it scares the bajeezus out of me - the idea of losing that.
I told him not long ago,

'... I know that everything won't always be perfect, that's just the way the world works. Sometimes bad things happen, and I feel as though we are building the strong base for a relationship that can withstand the bad things that the world may throw our way. And I feel like we'll always have this time to look back at, when everything was perfect.I feel like we are building a strong base for a future together, and for the first time in my life, that doesn't scare the shit out of me.'

(Oh, the eloquence.)
But in the last week or so, maybe because I have been essentially living with him, as has Kat Moss, I have felt the fear creeping in. The fear of loss, the fear of risking loss. I don't know what the Fear is really, but its there and all I want to do is talk about it ad naseum, talk about my feelings and emotions and yaddayaddayadda, but then I stop, because I get afraid of those making me lose him too.
One of the best things about our relationship is that we've 'always been on the same page', without much conversation about. There was never that discount futon uncomfortable vulnerability that I'd experienced before; there was time, and dialogue, and care and the building of something together. From getting him out of that damn house and into his condo (which is now near completion, with redoing the closet next on the list) and getting me over my weird hang ups about - well, everything - we've done it with ease and grace.
Its moved fast, but at an adult speed.
But I can't help feeling these insecurities take over. I don't know why I started doubting my lovability again, but I kind of did. Like one false step, and the jinx'll set in.
Maybe my lack of outlet, maybe my lack of Me time with my girlfriends has something to do with it; maybe I need a little more of both in my life.
Here's the thing, with my cat at his house (it was not fair, her alone in the Tiny Room all the time) and the fact that his house is 1. much biggger (he has a couch you guys! A couch! And a bath tub!) and 2. generally more comfortable (see: couch, tub, coffee maker, fridge full of sugar free Redbulls, and fresh flowers everywhere and 3. it feels like 'Ours'. We decorated it, we've made it ours. We call it 'Home'.

But, when all is said and done, my Home is a catless mint green studio apartment 35 miles away, with month old dirty dishes in the sink and a closet filled with winter clothes. My Home has started to feel like exactly what is was when I first moved in - an escape from something terrible. An escape from the Ex. And it was always meant to be a place of transition, and though I love it and all the wonderful beach town memories, and time with my girlfriends and my Dutchman, and everything, it never had the comfort of my place with the Ex, the apartment with shared for five years.
My Home was exactly as I've called it for the past two years: A Tiny Room with Kitchen Attached. Or, a glorified closet. And I don't live there anymore. Not for more than 45 minutes about once a week.
But, I've also said I won't move in with anyone else again, too fast or without a Certain Level of Commitment. And to a large degree I'm stickin' to that (except for the fact that I'm writing this from Our Bed right now, with my coffee on My Nightstand.)
So, there are some blurry lines there already.

For someone so happy (which I am) I hate that I am so afraid.
Not afraid to Love, because I do, with all my heart.
Not afraid to see a future with someone, because I see it with clarity.
And for the first time in my adult life, it doesn't scare the shit outta me.

The Fear I feel... Is the fear of being Wrong.
I guess.
Though, to be honest, I've never been wrong about this before. 
Because, I've never felt this way before.
I'm afraid of those things that I cannot control.
I'm afraid of him changing his mind.

I'm afraid it's gotta be jinxed or something.

But I'm pretty sure it's not.

Also, I think I am going to go back to this blog. I've missed it so.

New Beginnings.

thirty.score

I think I'm gonna play over here for a while.
(that's a link by the way)

Happy Endings.

Kat Moss has moved out.

My apartment, where I am now, my adorable little beachside room with a kitchen attached, looks like Roanoke.
Someone lives here, there are dirty dishes in the sink, paper strewn about, an empty pack of Parliments long forgotten sitting atop my nightstand.
But, no one is living here.
My home is simply a home for my clothes right now. As circumstance & convenience have me more and more at M's, and it being Our Creation, Our Place... My little bungalow, with all it's memories of F, and it's memories of last summer, and as a general Escape from my Past Life, it has become a shell.

A Shell of Saturn's Singledom.
Now, this is not exactly what I've wanted.
I love my little place, and my life here & have felt a bit alienated from it this week, as I've spent every night in Orange County.
But, when given the choice to drive home to my one room studio, or spend the evening with a man who rubs my feet, tells me he Loves me, and leaves a coffee cup ready to go in the Keurig before he leaves every morning, you can imagine which decision I am not hasty to make. But, coming here, for the first time, without my Kat waiting for me is a real reminder of how slowly but surely we are combining our lives.
Kat was sad and alone for most nights, with the F maybe stopping by to feed her until he no longer could, or would, it only made sense to bring her to M's.
M loves her too, and calls her 'Little One' and it makes me happy that we are all there, together, without worry.
But I can't help but feel like my last grip on any strand of singledom is gone.
Why am I afraid of that?

I'm afraid that if I do, I'll seem selfish.

Because I stood on a soap box for so long saying I would never rush into something like this, that I would never lose myself to a relationship again, that I can't help but feel a bit like a hypocrite.
And a circumstance and convenience go, I have no choice but to simply let go of that feeling right now.

I'm just afraid that I won't get the Girl's Night invites anymore for being disregarded as being with M.
I'm just afraid that I'm doing what I said I'd never do.
But most nights, when I have no invites or plans or am working late, the only thing I want to do is be in M's bed, watching old episodes of Happy Endings.

Ya know, I'm not afraid of my future with His as an Us, but I'm afraid that from the outside looking in, it will seem as though I am losing Me.


Also, I cut my hair. Short, above my shoulders.
It was time for a more Grown Up look.
And I had a Grown Up Fourth - work and then fireworks and dinner at the Montage in Laguna Beach. And while overlooking the Pacific, watching the bright lights, I realized that in two years, two July 4th's ago, my relationship with the Ex fell apart, everything went to shit that day. And that one July 4th ago marked my anniversary of my own independence. And that there, standing on that patio, with a man who has and is falling in love with me - and I him - that I have come so far in the past two years.
In two years, I have actually, really, truly, become a real life Grown Up.
And in turn, even with all  my empty nest syndromes and fears about missing out or moving on, I have fallen for a Grown Up.

Balancing Act.

There is a sconce I picked out for M's place; it's red and probably paper mâché - it is fashioned into a vertical rectangle, except for the lower right corner, which is asymmetrical and looks chipped off.
The other night, after lighting the candle, and admiring our handywork, he looked to me and said,

'I like the right corner. I like that it's different.' 

And I responded with,

'Thats what I like about Us. I bring out the less structured and more non-linear side of you. And you bring out a more structured me. We balance eachother.' 

To which he agreed.
Wholeheartedly.
I've met his brother.
The condo is nearly done.
I'm happy and spoiled and treated better and with more respect than I ever have been before.
And our Balance is no act.

My fourth of July was perfect, and I am Loved.