Life with Andrew is perfect.

Perfection – now there is something I never thought could exist.

Just as he charmed me on that first night in the bar, Andrew took a hold on my heart just as quickly and effortlessly. We immediately started to see each other every day after our first encounter, soaking each other up as we absorbed the city life and all it had to offer.

I am smitten. And I am stupid.

So stupid that I agreed to move in with him a mere month after meeting. We were walking down a street, headed to our favorite Thai place, when he started to fumble with his words, which was rare for him, Andrew, the man who always knew exactly what he wanted to say ten minutes before saying it.

“So, um, ha, well, one of my roommates – well actually, my only roommate, uh…” he trailed off, shaking his head and looking at his reflection in the passing store windows.

“Andrew, what is it?”

“Okay, well, the thing is, my roommate is moving out and I really like our, you know, us, I like us being together…our togetherness is really strong, you know?”

Togetherness – I never let him live that one down.

I understood what he was saying loud and clear – he wanted me to move in with him. Everything in the back of my mind was telling me, actually, screaming at me to politely say “no” and to go shove noodles down my throat so that I would refrain from saying that one word that would lead to trouble.

But he looked at me with those eyes, the perfect almond pair, and I could see that he cared. And he wanted, out of all of his friends, me.

I guess it felt good to be wanted. And I knew it felt good to be with him.

So I made a decision. I said yes.