A Contract, if you will.

After much discussion with friends, family, and my ex…which clearly didn’t go well….it was confirmed that Mr. Grey will be moving in….as my roommate.  Notice, no quotation marks surrounding that awkward little two syllable word?

I am not sure how I feel about it being used literally…not that I want him to move in with me and cohabitate like in my room with me…that would be too much.  I have been single for the last two years.  All of my closet space is mine…all of my dresser space is mine…shit, I have rights reserved in my daughter’s closet as well.  I do not want to give up any of that…or share…or start making arrangements for where I am going to hang all of my dresses.  No.  There is a gigantic almost walk in sized closet in the basement, conveniently where his bedroom will be situated.  And, let me preface the “basement” with it used to be rented.  So it isn’t like he is moving in to some dingy, low ceiling dwelling.  It is a little on the dark side, but so is Mr. Grey.  I think secretly in like an alternate universe, he may be a vampire.  Or something demonic.  Just because he is incapable and afraid of love.  Which to me is sinister.  On a different note…

We spoke today about beginning to move all of my daughter’s stuff out of her play room and my office, which occupy the two finished rooms downstairs.  I spoke with the landlord the other day about having Mr. Grey’s name added to the lease…that was a go.  In our conversation today it was discussed how we would integrate his children in to the picture.  About how I would maybe give them space to get used to being there without my daughter or I as distractions to make it feel as though it is their own…because from June 1, 2015 to May 31, 2016 it would be.

This conversation, by the way, was sparked after discussing how he was going to pay me for doing yet another research paper for him.  Which, I still have not sent based solely out of principle.  So, my genius idea was that his payment would have to be taking me out for the night.  I didn’t mention date…because I really don’t want dinner.  Dinner implies that we can drink with dinner and then can return home at a reasonable hour.  Even if he were to stay at my house…we do this a few times a month…unplanned and sporadically.  But we always have dinner, fuck, and go to sleep (sorry mom!).  I told him that I want to put on heels, do my hair…get dressed in something other than business casual or yoga pants.  As I was texting him this brilliant idea…another one came to me.

A few weeks ago, he text me this ridiculous conversation he was having with his mother, including the part where she was asking him if he was bringing me to his brother’s wedding, his father’s surprise 70th birthday party and all of the other late spring/summer activities he has coming up.  I laughed.  I said but why not take me as your friend?  It would be fun.  His retort was that it would further complicate things, make people think things, etc.  Which, I get.  Especially since I am not just a casual kind of person being that OUR names are going on MY lease.  Right.  So, I let it go.  However….

Wouldn’t a sweet payment for doing someone’s 12 page research paper, power point, and abstract, be standing side-by-side in wedding pictures that will be remembered for years to come?  He laughed at me.  Mr. Grey literally laughed at me.  Bold faced laughed in my face.  He then reiterated why.  He did not want to deal with his entire family knowing about me.  Because that would make them ask him questions.  My response would be, “we are just friends for now…with the kids it is kind of confusing.”  He didn’t like it.

His comfort level after this significantly decreased.  He then suggested we go out for Sunday Funday….really dude!?  I just did your research paper….Sunday?  I am not going out to brunch with you.  A) this is a broken cardinal rule of an FWB; B) I am not going to be able to make you jealous while grinding my hips on to someone else in front of you during brunch…I am pretty sure there is no DJ blaring twerking music on at 11AM on the Christian’s Holy day of rest.  Just. Saying.  Oh, and C)No. Take your guy friends to brunch and hit on the hung over, hair blown out from last night, makeup smudged faces who were unlucky in love the night prior.  Although…come to think of it….brunch implies a relationship.  Am I seriously inadvertently sabotaging what I honestly want?

Okay…focus….so, I told him the options for payment were a night out, equipped with heels and dancing and drinks OR to be his plus one at his brother’s wedding…which he never got, by the way.  Yes, he was not given a plus one.  I suppose his family knows him all too well.  I think the way the conversation went was “are you taking Elle? No? Then, nobody? Okay.”

He obviously chose a night out.  Digging up the babysitter’s phone number now.  Oh, but wait…so, the reason any of this came up, was because I was talking about places he could not take me….mainly this Gastropub that opened up in a neighboring town.  Primarily because my ex-FWB works there.  Mr. Grey said “oh so what! more of the reason to go! unless me being there would mess up what you have going on with him?”  Well played Mr. Grey, well played.  Naturally I responded with, “He is married.”  “So, what does that mean?” “I don’t sleep with married men.” “That’s a lie.” “How so?” “I am married.” “You don’t count.  I haven’t talked to Mr. Deli in years.”  “So you say…”

Anyway…I used Mr. Deli as leverage for why it was not weird or awkward for asking to go to his brother’s wedding with him by sharing that me and Mr. Deli used to go everywhere together.  He said it was because we were half in a relationship.  Which is true…but in reality…we were doing the same thing me and Mr. Grey are doing….so….how to connect those dots for Mr. Grey is the next question.

And then the answer to that question in the form of “fine, a night of drinks and dancing it is for you woman.”

And, on that note, I am going to start strategizing how I am rearranging everything in my basement for my new “roommate.”

[5/6/2015]