I just ran across this New York Times article, "Welcome to My World, O My Beloved. Don't Bring Your Stuff." It's one guy's viewpoint on co-habitation. This author's relationship crazy and mine could definitely be friends. Now his pack rat obsession on the other hand would drive me up the wall.
There are real gems in the article including his description of buying towels to mark the move-in (although Joan Crawford buying toilet seats is priceless) and of a cat pieta. Basically, this guy could say 'I love you,' but accepting his boyfriend's stuff was a much bigger step.
Reading this, I kept thinking of the hoops my husband went through—and still does—he's likely to tell you. I might be the only woman who wasn't thrilled to get engaged, but is completely happily married. Since learning that I'm not much for surprises, he's begun introducing a topic months in advance of me needing to make a decision, giving me plenty of time to freak out, analyze every possible scenario and basically get used to the idea of moving in together, getting married, moving, buying a car, etc. etc.
You know...it makes a lot more sense in my head. There, I'm totally not crazy. Of course, this guy doesn't think he is either and we know the real truth.