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Live Where You Love, and Love Where You Live.

I remember having lunch with my girl one day, and having to endure the typical, cynical “I don’t need a man. It’s not real. Love is stupid,” speech. Not even a year later, there she sat spewing glitter and gay over me – and I was loving it. The hopeless romantic in me secretly whispered an, “I told you so.” A lot can happen in such little time; like falling in love, moving in with the man of your dreams, and turning into “that girl” you used to make fun of.

And THAT girl, would’ve never moved in with her boyfriend.

Traditionally, most couples don’t live together until they get married. I’m one of those people who believe in cohabiting in the event you get married, move in, and wind up hating each other. There is always a possibility that the dynamic between two people can change based on the circumstance, or in this case living situation. So it’s good to test the waters, before you drown.

However, my girl made a great point for the opposition claiming that living together before marriage took away the romance. She believes that people tend to get comfortable real fast, and feel that simply living together is “enough”. No more weekend trips, “for nothing dates”, baseball games, or beach days. In other words, cohabitation has replaced dating. 

I don’t know if it’s true or not seeing as I’ve never lived with any of my past boyfriends due to my own selfish reasons. But I do know that if I ever choose to in the future, the spark will not end at the front door. There will be a lot of cooking in lingerie, Netflix nights, love post-its, and the neighbors will definitely know our names.  Home isn’t where you live – but where you love. And if you do it right, it can be both.

“We’ll be together with a roof right over our heads; We’ll share the shelter of my single bed; We’ll share the same room, yeah! – for Jah provide the bread.”

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