You love them. Theoretically. If you’re in like, a casual summer fling with a dude, it wouldn’t make a lot of sense to move in together.
It’s cost-effective. When you start with the assumption that two people will be sharing the cost of a one-bedroom apartment, a lot of options open up. Even if you don’t have a romantic partner, I recommend you find a roommate who you can share a bed with. It’s so much cheaper than finding a two-bedroom apartment, y’all.
You don’t have to pretend to live in two places. I remember that old dance (she says, chuckling down at you from a very tall chair). “Where are we going to end up tonight? I have class in the morning. I should bring my laptop over before dinner. Do you need to leave your car at my place?” You think it’s easier, having your own place, but you’re wrong. If you’re sleeping together every night anyway, you do a lot of weird coordinating.
You don’t have to have any other roommates. It’s so much easier to sort out the daily roommate bullshit with someone you’re invested in maintaining a good relationship with. When I was a roommate, every chore felt like something I’d been tricked into (because I didn’t ask to be born). And I still feel this way! The daily maintenance required to simply stay alive is an unreasonable burden!
But if Andrew asks me to do something, I’m more likely to do it just because I like him, and he’s right about things a lot of the time, and I don’t want him to be mad at me.
And if something isn’t working for one of us, roommate-wise, we’re able to address it directly. Because we’re in an adult relationship, and we have communication strategies other than starting a two-week escalating post-it-note war that never really ever gets won.
You’re one step closer to joint pet ownership. Obviously, that’s your endgame here.
They’re always there. As mentioned above, you (hopefully) love this person, so you might think you’d enjoy their constant presence. And you do! But there was something nice about going over to the other person’s house just to see them. It made hanging out something you went out of your way to do. When you live together, spending time together is the default.
You will find out how annoying they are. No matter how much you love someone, you will find out that they like to crunch on baby carrots, the loudest snack in the world. They will whistle while they cook, which will be endearing for about five minutes. They will not rinse dishes enough before putting them in the dishwasher and then you’ll get all nervous about the cleanliness of the dishes and insist on washing them again. Your beloved partner, it turns out, is the most annoying person alive.
You will find out how annoying you are. You are the second most annoying person alive! Remember when you lived with roommates? You’re gonna find out they were holding their tongue about a lot of stuff, because they didn’t have an intimate and secure enough relationship with you to ask “Wow, how do you manage to slurp every single food?” Or, “Could you gather up the, maybe, four or five pairs of shoes that are scattered across this room and put them literally anywhere else?” It turns out, you are terrible to live with!
It blows my mind that anyone used to get married before they’d spent some time cohabiting. How could you commit to the rest of your life with someone if you don’t know if you can handle them leaving all the cabinet doors open?
They might not let you cover the apartment in Christmas lights. Which is bullshit. As soon as we can afford an apartment with more rooms in it, I’m designating one the Christmas lights room and I’m covering it in Christmas lights and no one can stop me.