I've survived a Month.

It's been a month.  One month since I started living with a boy.  One month ago I said goodbye to tucked-in sheets, dishes always being put in the dishwasher instead of in the sink, and not being ragged on for wanting to watch the Bachelorette. 

I don't regret a thing.  One certain person laughed at me when I told them I was making this move.  Said I'd never make it and this was the stupidest decision I could ever have made.  That's when I was just considering it.  Well, in your face, stupid person!  I'm the happiest I have ever been, minus the being on your own and having to be an adult part. 

It's the 'I love you's' every night before bed, the surprise visits at work, the nightly walks and cooking dinner together that make it all worth-while.  It's the smiles, the laughter, the poking fun, the adventures and the companionship.  I'm very lucky to have this man in my life, let alone to know that I want this to last a very, very long time.  We're going on 8 months now, and yes, we've had our ups and our downs, but nothing major.  They've all been stepping stones, distinct growing points in our relationship.  Whether it's to make me more mature, or him more understanding, they've had their purpose and we've learned our lessons from them and I've never once questioned my feelings for him.

So, even though the dishwasher is dirty and there's still room fore dishes to be loaded into it, I'm going to go curl up next to my boyfriend.  I'm going to look at him all adorably, which even I admit is completely sickening, but I can't help it.  Maybe we're still in the Honeymoon Stage.  If so, I hope it doesn't go away.