Rolling over to the new year in 2022 meant reuniting with my girlfriend after traveling apart for the first time in two years, and then eventually both of us reuniting with our apartment and our normal life.
We moved in together last February, so this will technically be the first full year we live together. Going away and coming back to each other like this has me feeling nostalgic for those first days together. We’d already been living together for about a year at that point, but not at all in the same way.
She moved in with my sister and I at the start of the pandemic, at both my and my sister’s invitation. Her living situation at that point was not great, and we agreed it would be better than her going back and forth between our place and hers during an uncertain time. It was hard, the three of us living together, but we got through it. And when we did, it really felt like starting fresh.
So I’m feeling nostalgic for that time, here at just about the one year anniversary. Those first few days and weeks were so much fun. Figuring out where furniture should go, figuring out our grocery list, what to cook, what to hang on the walls. The smell of wood from Ikea furniture, assembling a dresser, a nightstand, a kitchen island (our greatest purchase to date). Putting together our shared life, and then crashing on the couch with some YouTube or video games. Just pure domestic living. No worries. Like the world had given us a reprieve from having to be “productive citizens” for a bit. Like we didn’t have to worry about finding work for a bit.
This isn’t a melancholy nostalgia, or a “what I wouldn’t give to have that back” sort of feeling. I’m so glad we got that special little bubble of time together. It’s something we’ll always have. Something I’ll always cherish. I can’t wait for what the next year of living together brings us. So far it’s great, as it has been from the start.
Here’s to that start.