I love my neighbourhood. I live in the downtown core of my city, which is a pretty kickassed downtown, if I do say so. My town is smallish, at about 80 000 residents, which means that downtown is a few concentrated streets lined with cafes and boutiques and everyone knows everyone. Everyone knows, for example, that the Camel isn't serving espresso anymore because their barista, G, is moving on up and opening his own cafe just as soon as he gets through the red tape and can set up in the art gallery. I., owner of the Camel, is happy for him and wants to concentrate more on his organic, fair-trade middle eastern food and continuing to make the best damn falafel ever. I., incidentally, used to live in what is now my house, specifically in the bedroom where I now write this.

See? That kind of place.

But as much as I love downtown, I'm not real stoked on my living situation. I have that rule about not posting super personal stuff, so I won't go into detail - besides, this post has a different direction.

I've been talking about finding a new place, but that's difficult when you're as bloody determined to live somewhere within a six-block vicinity as I am. I was ranting about this to Coffeeboy the other day, who lives smack dab in the middle of things, literally a stones throw - or toss, rather, it's right across the street - from the afformentioned Camel.

"well, why don't... I mean, in awhile maybe...I mean, you're always here, why don't.... why don't you, like..... move your stuff over here?"

And it didn't scare me. What the hell? I'm supposed to be a commitmentphobe here! Our relationship is SO not old enough to be talking about this sort of thing. For God's sake, I smoked weed last night purchased on the same night we got together. Granted, it was really dry weed, but smokeable, nonetheless.

I love that apartment. I love his roommates. And, of course, I love him. I should be terrifed of this. And - careful, because this is going to be disgustingly cliche- I've never felt quite like this before. I've only ever flet that rush-excitement kind of love, or the comfortable easy-going kind, but never all together in one.

I told him I'd think about it. And I am.