On the 1st of February we signed the contracts for our new place. We paid the remainder of the deposit, fees and first months rent and Megan went with the estate agent to pick up the keys and run through the itinerary and inspection while I was at work.
The estate agent was apparently very thorough, noting down every tiny little scuff on the skirting, every scratch by the keyhole in the front door, any discolouration on the walls of carpets. This was both a bad and a good sign, bad because if or when we planned to leave they would scrutinise the condition just as thoroughly and great because we couldn’t possibly be blamed for any existing damage.
That first day that we had the keys the place was empty except for the kitchen appliances and a step ladder. Even though it was bare it was ours. I hadn’t been to visit again since the initial viewing weeks before and I was excited to get in there again. I arranged to meet Megan at the apartment on my lunch break since it was just around the corner from work.
Megan picked me up and we went back to our new home together. When we reached the living room Megan had done the sweetest thing by putting together a little picnic on the floor for us. The place was open plan but absolutely huge for just the two of us and it only seemed bigger in its empty state.
I hadn’t noticed at the time but our new home actually features ever so briefly in one of my favourite LGBT movies; Imagine Me and You. We were living right next to Brentford football ground and it’s the apartment block you can see at the end of the street when Luce is shouting “You’re a wanker number nine!” which is just some random trivia for you.
We figured out which parking sport belonged to us, found the information left by the landlord about the utilities supplier and started planning where we were going to put our newly acquired furniture. We wouldn’t be able to move most of the big pieces of furniture up until the weekend when my Dad could borrow a van from work to help us move everything.
In the mean time we continued staying at my shared accommodation in Ealing. Things had changed a lot in recent months. Two of my previous housemates had moved out leaving Dana and I as the only remaining original housemates. A new girl and guy had moved into each of the spare rooms. The guy was quiet and kept to himself but the girl seemed really cool.
Yet because there had been so much changing over the recent months it didn’t really seem fitting to have any fuss over moving house. I was only moving a couple miles away in any case and I was sure I’d still see Dana about a lot.
As for Megan, moving to London and getting a better job had been everything she had been focusing on for months now. She seemed ecstatic that it was all finally happening, as soon as we had the keys to our own place together we both breathed a sigh of relief. It had all been worth it.
Sure, we had spent the first six months of our relationship completely blissfully. Weekends at the coast, spending time together both here in London and home in Somerset, going out dancing together and always enjoying every second we shared together. We had also had our obstacles too, the distance, Megan’s ex-girlfriend that didn’t seem to accept it was over to begin with, her ex-girlfriends Dad who didn’t seem to be able to accept it either and Megan not really feeling at home with her parents, it was great to finally be free of all the little niggling things that could have been poisonous to us.
Megan would be heading back to Somerset to finish working out her notice at her current job and I’d be left here in London to begin moving my things in and sort out all the utilities and get the TV and Internet sorted. It felt good that everything was coming together nicely. I promised not to spend the night at our new place until we could be together, although it was tempting. I was simply counting down the days until we moved in.