Doug Loves Sarah, Week 8 of 52

The Move In

Sarah moved in with me (James and Dan) in the first week of July, 2003. Her and I ended up dating about the first week of August, same year. When she moved in, she was in a steady, if slightly troubled relationship, and I was pretty much tired of females in general. Things were not looking good for our future children. I even managed to spend a week out of town about that time. Despite said hurdles, including the biggest hurdle of all--that we did not intend to date--the two of us formed a lasting, stable relationship at this time. Call it fate, kismet, or manipulation of an older man to take advantage of a younger girl. I call it, well, two people ended up liking each other because some damn times it is nice to have someone who understands.

It began with Dan kicking out two of our roommates, potentially driving up our rent and cost of living. I needed to find someone to move in. The first choice was unsure, and there were no real second choices. A few flirted with the idea, but nothing solidified. Sarah, one day, mentioned wanting to move out of her parents. I, half unseriously, proposed our place.

It was more than monetary. I liked Sarah as a person. I barely knew her at the time. She seemed cool, though.

Her parents balked at it, as to be expected. Her boyfriend, another Daniel, balked at it, as to be expected. Apparently the roommate Dan was terrified of it, but somewhat afraid to say such things. He, it turned out, was largely afraid that his parents would attack him about it, or something.

To make a long story short, it went through. Her parents chided me and James to take care of her. Her boyfriend guilted her, chided me, and then realized he would have a place for regular sex sessions and I think grew to be ok with it. The roommate chided me for hanging out with her, though he "tried" to make it work.

To be perfectly honest, the breeding ground for mine and Sarah's relationship had two founts. The first was the fact that we honestly got along and supported one another and were generally attracted to each other in multiple ways. The second, well, the fact that everyone was trying to make Sarah out as a villain. She would spend hours talking to me about how people were coming down so hard on her as though she was completely idiotic. Hell, she even had a cop stop and harrass her about "living in a house with that bunch of dirty boys."

Irony is not the right word, but it is the first word to come to mind.

I am going to end it, here, and skip around, but will be back in a couple of weeks to talk about the night that Sarah and I went from being roommates that would talk for hours. I apologize for the nearly drunken tones of this one, but the memories are so dribbling. They come in droves, waves, and impressions.

A lot happened to us then.