Opinion: Borka Schuster
Whenever someone finds out we're engaged, one of the first questions is usually how long we've known each other, how long we've been a couple, and how long we've lived together. And when I answer that we haven't actually moved in together, I catch that half-second of confusion on their face. As if they suddenly don't know where to file our relationship.
Most of them don't mean any harm by it. They're simply used to the idea that relationships follow a set order: dating, moving in, a few years of cohabiting, engagement, wedding.
We let go of that order somewhere along the way
Before anyone misreads me: I don't think it's a good idea for two people to start their shared life only after the wedding either. There's a lot of truth in the saying that you only really know someone once you've lived with them.
A relationship shows an entirely different face when you're no longer just bringing your best self for a few hours at a time — but meeting each other at 6:30 on a Monday morning too, when the milk has run out, the bathroom light is still on, and someone forgot to take out the trash again. Those are important lessons.
The thing is, our situation isn't that we live apart and will one day suddenly move in together. In reality, we spend almost every evening together. We have dinner together, we sleep together, we drink our morning coffee together. If someone watched us from the outside, they'd probably say we live together. Just in two apartments.
We each have our own home, and somehow neither of us has ever felt we should give that up.
I love that in my own place I can change anything exactly the way I want. When I decided to paint the bathroom pink, I didn't have to run it by anyone. No compromise, no convincing someone that it would actually look good.
He loves the same freedom — half his living room can be taken over by his computer setup without anyone giving him a disapproving look every time he buys yet another monitor. We've each held on to a space that's entirely our own. And at the same time, we have a life we share.
It's a little like having two home bases
If we go to the theater in the evening, sometimes we head back to one apartment, sometimes the other — depending on which is on the way, or whose morning commute is easier the next day. And now and then we decide that tonight everyone sleeps in their own place. Not because we've argued, but because it feels good to spend an evening moving at your own rhythm.
Some nights he plays video games until dawn. I read a book in bed with the reading lamp on, without disturbing a soul.
Of course, this way of living has its annoying sides too. You can waste a surprising amount of time trying to remember which apartment you left that one top in — the one you actually need this morning. And the laptops, notebooks and chargers we can't work without get hauled back and forth almost constantly. Sometimes it feels like we're permanently mid-move. And yet I wouldn't trade it.
Not long ago, we got engaged, and naturally the question came up: so when are we finally moving in together? It would seem logical. As if the engagement ring automatically came with the keys to a shared apartment. But for now, we don't feel any rush. In fact, I sometimes catch myself thinking it could actually happen this way: we become husband and wife before we ever share an address.
I know this sounds strange to a lot of people
It would have sounded strange to me a few years ago, too. Because we like to believe that healthy relationships come with a pre-written script. When someone deviates from it, the question immediately pops up: why? But sometimes there's no dramatic explanation at all. We simply found a system that works.
Maybe it'll change in a few years. Maybe one day we'll have a shared home and we'll laugh about the time we kept toothbrushes in two different places. But I don't rule out staying like this for a while longer either. Because for us, it works. Others might find it odd — but it isn't their relationship. So why would we listen to them instead of ourselves?
Can a couple really be committed without living together?
Absolutely. As this story shows, spending almost every evening together, sharing meals and mornings, and being engaged can all coexist with keeping separate homes. Commitment isn't defined by a shared address.
Why would anyone choose to stay in separate homes after getting engaged?
For some couples, keeping their own space feels freeing rather than limiting. Each person can decorate and live the way they like, while still building a shared life together — without feeling any pressure to rush the move.
What are the downsides of living separately as a couple?
The practical hassles are real: forgetting which home you left something in, and constantly carrying laptops, chargers and notebooks back and forth. It can feel like you're permanently mid-move.
Does living apart mean the relationship is less serious?
Not at all. For the couple in this story, it's simply a system that works for them — and they may even marry before ever sharing an address. There's no single correct order for a relationship to follow.
