All the Time

by Gwen Cooper — August 31, 2007

The summer is officially over, something that most people regard a little mournfully. Being from Miami, where the change of seasons is subtle at best, I always look forward to the transition from summer to fall. I think fall, especially in New York, is one of the most beautiful times of the year. And I even look forward to winter--not just for the cold and snowy weather (again, something very exotic for a girl raised in the semi-tropics), but also because there's nothing better than snuggling up with a great guy on a cold winter's night--should you find yourself lucky enough to have a great guy to snuggle up to.

But I'm more apprehensive this year than I've been in previous years. Robert and I had a summer that was rocky at times, but overall was pretty wonderful. We spent weekends on the beach and ate lobsters and corn on the cob and walked around the city until we were sweaty and spent, at which point we came back to one or the other of our apartments, showered, and made love. All good, summery stuff.

But Robert's been subtly pushing the idea of the two of us moving in together--and I know that the coming change of seasons is going to root the idea more firmly in his mind. Winter's a time for "cocooning," and if the idea of spending every night curled up together is appealing to him in the summer, it'll be doubly so, undoubtedly, when the thermostat starts going down.

Try as I might, however, I can't bring myself to love the idea. I'm not exactly sure what my hang-up is. It could be that we've only been together about four months. I should explain here that I have no intention of "playing house" with a man ever again. I did that once, and it just ended up making everything harder when the time for breaking up arrived. The next time I live with a man, it'll be the man I plan to marry--and, much as I love Robert, I'm not sure I'm ready to sign on for the rest of my life so quickly.

And I love my independence. I may spend five out of seven nights with Robert, but I love having those other two nights to gossip on the phone with my friends and eat cookie dough straight from the tube, or put my hair up in the pins that enhance its curliness (but that look DREADFUL while they're in) and dance around my apartment lip-synching songs from the '80s while pretending to be Cyndi Lauper. In other words, all the stuff you can't necessarily do when somebody else is there all the time.

I think it's the all the time thing that has me so rattled. Plus, as a writer, I need lots of alone time to do my reading and my writing, and think my deep thoughts (cough) that will eventually turn up on the page.

I don't have to make a decision today or tomorrow. But these things have a way of coming to a head. And if you wait too long to decide, and then end up deciding "no," you're liable to get an entirely justified, "Why did you wait so long to tell me how you felt?!"

Being a writer means you end up honing your procrastination skills to near perfection. So I'm putting the subject off for now. But every day that we inch closer to September, I know my clock is running out...

Gwen Cooper is the author of Diary of a South Beach Party Girl, recently published by Simon & Schuster. To read all of Gwen Cooper's posts in "The Dating Life," click here.