I moved in with my boyfriend a few months ago, and it’s true what they say. You really don’t know a person until you live with them. (Since Chewitt and I are planning on living in a flat in London together and having tons of whacky sitcom-worthy adventures, this worries me a little.) BUT the most interesting thing I’ve realized is that you don’t know yourself until you’ve lived with someone.
I knew before we moved in together that I am kind of messy. This remains true. I also knew I was a control freak. However, I had no idea to the extent I am a control freak. I knew that when we watched Netflix on a computer together, I had to be the one holding the laptop. And that if I’m in a car/bus/vehicle and not driving, I will stare out the window and clutch something until my knuckles are white. (Even though I myself am not that great of a driver, I’d prefer to die by my own mistake than someone else’s.)
But guess what else I need to be in control of? No– don’t even try. Because you’ll never guess. It’s the most ridiculous thing, and I know it, but that doesn’t stop me from freaking out about it every time I open the freezer.
That’s right. I need to be in control of the ice tray. And not in the stereotypical, “Did you use all the ice from the ice tray and not fill it up again?” kind of way. (Although seriously, if you don’t refill the ice tray, you are a douchebag.)
It’s that my boyfriend fills the ice trays up the wrong way. Yeah, in my mind, there is a wrong way. To fill an ice tray. With water.
I’m as disgusted with myself as you are.
Anyway, the right way to fill an ice tray is to fill it lightly with water. I don’t mean like sprinkle the water in daintily like a water fairy or anything, I just mean you can’t fill the water all the way to the top of the plastic. Because then when you break the ice cubes up, they’re rough and it’s harder to break them up. Also, you’re much more likely to lose a cube or two when you have to wrestle the tray more roughly.
But my way, the ice cubes are “too small,” according to my boyfriend. But the thing is, even though I can admit that I’m really irritated by the way he fills up the ice tray and sometimes I rush through a tray so I can be the one that refills it, it still bothers me. But with my boyfriend, he’ll make fun of me, but it doesn’t bother him at all.
That is how I realized how particular I am about almost everything. So, yes. When you move in with your significant other, you will learn a lot about them. And you may or may not like the things you learn. But you’ll also learn things you don’t like about yourself. Which is much more frightening.