When I was a little girl, rather than dreaming about marrying a prince and living in a fairytale castle, I dremt of being a successful career woman with a high rise loft apartment. While I’m not 100% there yet, I’ve run into a problem. You see, it would seem that the man I’ve chosen to share my life with doesn’t like lofts. How can it be possible that anyone doesn’t like lofts? The exposed brick, the concrete floors, the open piping. It’s a dream, but one he doesn’t seem to be having. And rest assured, this is a pretty big deal. A huge deal, in fact, because I’ve always seen myself in a loft as my forever space.
He would rather live in a townhouse or a single family home. He would even prefer a plain old apartment. To his credit, they are much more cost effective than loft living. When asked why, it would seem that every single thing that makes me love them, turns him off. He doesn’t like the exposed brick, hates the polished concrete floors, detests the open pipe work. Who is this man?!
He says it wouldn’t be ideal for our dogs, but a lot of places have nearby (or attached) dog parks. I’ve looked into it. But the dogs aren’t really the problem. Rather, his issue seems to be that they generally don’t have walls. He wants a place with walls. For the life of me I can’t figure that one out. There’s just two of us. Me and him. Two dogs and a cat. Why on earth would he need walls?
Then, not ten minutes ago, he tells me that he’s changed his mind. He still doesn’t like them but if/when we move he’ll be happy wherever I’m happy. It’s a trap. I’m sure of it. It’s one of those marital tests that make you wonder what the heck you’re supposed to do. Do I take him at his word? Do I chose a place I know he doesn’t, at first, like? Or do I take his feelings into consideration without his permission? Because his giving in on this makes me think putting the ball in my court will also make me responsible for his misery, should he really, actually hate it.
In this case, when the time eventually comes, I chose what will make me happy. At least for the time being, because it’s what he says he wants and I’m going to respect him enough to take him at his word. Besides, I’m sure that if he looked at them, stood in one, saw how happy it makes me, that he’d find a way to like it, too. That’s what I tell myself, anyway.
There is one shining light though. He seems to like my choice of furniture. That’s something. You see, I’ve always imagined filling my dream loft with beautiful, retro furniture. Sleek lines that scream 1950s. Something exactly like this…
It’s the Nixon Leather Sofa in Brompton Brown and I love it. It’s perfect in every sense and one day, mark my words, it will be mine. One day when I can afford to pay $2,800 for a sofa. And the loveseat isn’t much less. Oh, and there’s a chair that matches. And the same company makes desks and tables. My loft will be brilliant. It will be perfect. I’ll fill it with retro furniture and lamps, area rugs, Big Chill modern-retro appliances. Matt and I will be happy there, living the life I always dreamed, and he’ll love it too because I’ll be happy. Someday.
Until then, I had better get on doing the things to make this fantasy a reality. Whatever that may be. Pictures forthcoming. Someday.