This guy has been five years: Billy’s best blog

Living with this guy for five years, we are still very happy. Our pandemic cohabitation experiment was successful. Together we completed five years of shared space, a bed and meals, dogs, Netflix and ginger beer. That is the essence of cohabitation. Ordinary life. HO HUM Pedestrian Plebian Joe Blow Normal. It’s really awesome. And we know we are lucky to be here. We are good news for the bad press. Aging requires some habits. There are a lot of things to complain about, so I want to write a pin at this moment and remember it.

You know how the world is now, with so many changes in our parents and grandparents breaking lines on the beach. The world we learned in school no longer exists, and a new world has not yet been born. This is uneasy. Sometimes terrible. We are mid-Habob and we don’t know which planet we will live on when the dust settles. Having cohabitants can be less frightening. Hug reminds us that reality has layers. We are keeping our steps and following our hearts.

Aging is different from what we expected, but it is better than we thought when we looked at grandparents half a century ago. We are in better shape than before. Our bodies are still able to enjoy the life we ​​want. We are not rock climbing or pearl diving. We don’t have extravagant flavors. Our ambitions are flexible. We are very busy, but not too busy. We were told, but we restricted exposure to negative messaging. We try not to emphasize things that are beyond our control. You can call it wisdom. Maybe it’s complacency. But we keep it real.

Exercise seems to be the key to our satisfaction. We walked in the morning. Then we walked more in the afternoon. Then we walked again before going to bed at night. It’s not just a dog. We speak. We wandered around the darkness, sucking mist from the lawn sprinkler and smelling flowers. We remember things, we have stories to tell, our conversations are winding, our thoughts are undirected, and freely connected. We listen to each other. We are very curious. We are still learning how to weave our emotional safety net.

We are not married. No plan. We both had weddings, spouse and a dream house, paired dishes, combined bank accounts and mortgage loans. We don’t do this anymore. Our relationship is simpler than that. We collaborate on homemade and dog ownership. We share the fees. But each of us likes one person. He fishes, I read and write. Together we made plans to be alone. Silence is clarifying. We can live alone like we have been years, but we choose not to. We choose to live together, and we choose to share our lives with others. I chose him. But we balanced our couples with their time alone.

When we are together, our lives are organized around food. I think it’s kitchen-centric life. I store our pantry, arrange and prepare meals. Cooking and eating a few times a day is crucial to me. This is how I focus myself, keep my blood sugar stable, control my cravings and leave time to get inspiration. We had breakfast and dinner together in the in-person kitchen. real. I packed him lunch on weekdays. These habits keep us in sync in the same clock and notice the sky and weather, and realize the passing season. He doesn’t cook. My food is to cultivate and grow my own food. Having a kitchen-centric life I connect me with my biology, my microbiome, and my boyfriend. I need this to feel complete.

We are all black sheep, born and raised in the Midwest, living in the suburbs outside Chicago, watching the same TV show, listening to the same music, rebelling against our conservative Christian roots. From childhood, we have been trained by our family and become materialists. Clocks and Chinese teacups, tablecloths and frames photos were passed from generation to generation. We want us to take care of our ancestors’ property and give it to our children. Materialism is the American dream. Marriage life is a manifestation of materialism. Together with our spouse, we accumulate things, filling the house, stacked boxes in the closet, lofts, hoarded Christmas decorations and old tools. What we have defines our lives.

no longer. We are minimalists now. We have reduced the material burden and sent out most of the content we have for married people. When we face the uncertainty of climate change, we choose to travel lighting, keep home agile, let go of unnecessary possessions, and then Look! Minimalism creates open spaces in our homes and in our minds. I cannot live with materialists. After my life’s over-exposed contact, I was allergic to things. Fortunately for me, my cohabiter is not a good furniture guy, so minimalism is not a sacrifice for him as long as he can keep the fishing bait. Fortunately, they are small.

Five years ago, our connection was driven by the pandemic. Living together is safer than living separately. Our compatibility is accidental. Occasional careers prepare each other for trying a way of life, unlike anything we have experienced before. Here we are all growing up with grey hair and fit to make it very fit. Unbelievable, but timely. We have fishing baits, chemistry and poodles. Now, it’s enough.