Splitting Houses


After work yesterday I drove home fed my dogs, gave them their pills and began packing. I put the onion and milk Alex needed me to bring over for dinner in a bag. I grabbed our bowling bags and shoes for our last night of bowling league and threw them in the car. Then I went ahead and changed into workout clothes, grabbed the bag and my dogs and headed out the door.

Thirty minutes of traffic later I arrive at Alex's house, which is actually my brother Ryan's house. My mom calls right as I am walking in with everything so I set the food on the counter, let the dogs go outside, talk to my mom about getting photos of baby Elliott and avoid the fifty plus year old man that is currently staying at the house too (you read that correctly, my brother is letting a friends dad stay at the place for a few months which, I personally think, might turn into a much longer stay as I don't see the dad wanting to leave). As I end the phone call I melt onto Alex's bed and am not sure whether I want to cry or laugh at the ridiculousness of this.

The thing is I wasn't prepared for Alex to come along. The last real relationship I had was four years ago and I just hadn't met anyone that really made my heart jump. At the time, I was living by myself and pondering how I could save some money. My little brother, Miles, was needing a place to live and Ryan and I had two places he could move into. We bargained for him and I came out the winner. Looking back I would have gladly kept the place to myself and found another way to save some money. But hindsight is 20/20.

Now here we are, shuffling our belongings and dogs between two houses patiently waiting till Alex can move in with me.

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