What Happened in the Kitchen With the Roommate

(I would not be surprised if he decides to move out)

Which would be monetarily catastrophic for my boyfriend. The two of us live on top and Roomie lives in the finished basement. It’s been this arrangement for two years.

Roomie is an enigma. He gets up before the sun, comes home around sunset from work, spends one day a week hijacking the kitchen for 6+ hours to meal prep, and that’s just the times we see him. In two years, he hasn’t said a word to us unless he has a concern.

At the same time, we run in the same circles and go to the same concerts. He is beloved in our friend group and it seems when he DOES talk, it’s good stuff. I’m determined to be his friend but all efforts have failed. It’s a safe bet that since me and my man got together and I moved in, we are probably some amount of insufferable.

Last week Roomie came home from a weekend outing and had the courage to say to the two of us sitting on the couch:

“You guys, I don’t wanna be a dick but the 4 AM showers, please don’t do that any more. I love sleeping. I can hear it clearly and I am a super light sleeper. I mean, I’m right there by the bathroom. I get up right after that. I understand the dogs are gonna run around, and when you have to use the bathroom you can’t really help that. But the showers, they’re killing me. Waking up before my alarm sucks so much. I’ve considered maybe I just need to move out...”

So, we’re on thin ice.

Fast forward to tonight, it’s pre-midnight but late; a normal Lauren time to eat. I’m freshly home from band practice and start making some pasta and an air fryer full of veggies. Stove’s going, air fryer’s going, and the unbelievable smell is probably wafting all over the house.

I hear “rustling” downstairs followed by footsteps on the staircase.

He seems exasperated when he gets to the top. “Lauren, please stop cooking so late or at least figure out some quieter meal to make. It’s still a weeknight, I gotta get up in 5 hours. I feel like I’m a good roommate and try to keep clean and be quiet, and I’m feeling disrespected…”

He’s right, but I went with sassy and indignant:

“Well I just got home from band practice. Before practice was too close to my last meal. Yada yada yada. Do you need earplugs? You want my brown noise machine? I mean this is roommate life. You lived with different roommates with even crazier schedules before me…”

Ignoring everything he is saying and deflecting all nonexistent accusations.

In reality I just want to use groceries that are on the verge of going bad and I should have just said that.

Some more back and forth that felt justified but probably wasn’t, happened.

In a last ditch effort to seize the moment to win this dude over, I decided to “share vulnerably”, I say with air quotes:

I think the reason I stay up so late is because 4 AM is when my “Being awake in case Crazy Shit happens outside” shift ends, and yours begins. You know, when you get up and get ready for work. You have to go through the house, the yard, walk outside.. you’d tell us if there was any Crazy Shit happening. I’m scared to go to bed before that.

He inhales, and…

“Look, I know things are shitty in the world but I really need my sleep. I mean, I go to work at 5. I love sleeping. It’s my favorite thing. I’m really on the verge of moving out. I just wanna live in a nice home, and it IS a nice home, and I like living here and I try to be a good roommate...”

That’s when it dawned on me: He doesn’t care about my weird traumas or reasons for doing things (imagine that). All he cares about is that I please respect the hours that I know or can presume that he’s asleep. He was here first and has no obligation to befriend me no matter how much his phantom roommateship is torture.

Not to mention in retrospect, this was probably WAY too much trauma dumping on a near-stranger and a poor excuse for bonding.

Anyway, he’s totally right.

I had lots of other options for what to eat late and I chose something that had a higher chance of disturbing the roommate (he is, indeed, a very good roommate) whose friendship spans many years, and whose tenancy is a valuable income source for my boyfriend. I have no right to risk that.

So I shut up and gave a deep head nod, said “ I hear you” and left it at that.

Fast forward to now:

Here I am on the floor of my room documenting the situation. I have to tell my boyfriend tomorrow if Roomie doesn’t text him first, and I’m unsure of what his reaction will be. Meanwhile we are halfway through Crazy Shit O’Clock at the time of this writing. A few more hours left before it’s safe to sleep.

Maybe I’ll spend the next few hours asking myself: Do I care more about my personal freedom to do whatever I want in my home, or do I care more about making my man’s life easy; and not risking a resource that will allow him/us to move out of the city ASAP together and alone like we keep saying we want to do?

How sure am I that that’s what I want? Am I putting myself in situations that make me unhappy in order for my boyfriend to prevail, and where is the line between genuine relationship goals and codependent behavior? Will these sacrifices indeed pay off and we end up happy and in a place where there’s less Crazy Shit, some day?

Either there’s some self-betrayal going on here or I need to change my attitude.