The semester is ending, and about a fourth of us are graduating. Many are going on to graduate school. At least one of us has even been admitted into Harvard’s Virology program. One of those happens to be my boyfriend. (Why he is dating an English major with pathetic hopes of becoming a journalist is beyond me.)

For the past month, he has been feverishly searching the internet trying to find a place to live that won’t cost $2000 a month and isn’t a 20 minute walk from campus. Recently, he happened upon a perfect apartment: a three minute walk to the lab, stainless-steel appliances and granite countertops, cat-friendly – the works.

The catch? It is a four-bedroom place, and the other three people who will be living with him are women.

Guess how comfortable his loving, caring, sometimes-a-bit-overprotective girlfriend feels about that? Not too awesome. There are few things that send me reeling more than the thought of my smart and handsome boyfriend living among girls who look like models and bake cakes and cook giant Italian meals every day.

Chances are, they won’t fit that description. But that doesn’t mean I won’t feel awkward about him living amongst poon.

After the initial bombardment of “supermodel-top-chef-harlot roommates mackin’ on my boyfriend” nightmares subside, the real whore-r will be the uncomfortable encounters that will occur once I start to visit him.

You know how it is. It’s been months since you’ve seen each other, the cat is occupied eating wet food in the kitchen, the bedroom door is shut: the time is right for romance.

But I have a gut feeling that our evening escapades are going to be made less amazing by my knowledge that there could be girls rummaging around in the kitchen across from his bedroom. Or showering upstairs. Or watching TV in the living room.

I’m not trying to be creepy, I’m just admitting to you all that I’m going to be awkwardly distracted by the fact that my boyfriend is living with girls. Maybe I’m insecure, but somehow the prospect of a girl hearing us…you know…makes me uneasy.

What if they hear us and start thinking “Hm, it’s been awhile…maybe I can get in on that,” or “Wow, that girl sounds really joyous, I am quite jealous and would like to be that joyous as well sometime in the near future.” (I’m hoping they are losers and have weird diction, okay?)

I don’t know how you would feel in this kind of situation, but I don’t think I’m crazy for being uncomfortable with my boyfriend being smothered by muff.

But I’ll end this with some advice: if you or your significant other is moving far away, and maybe even cohabitating among lots of pink tacos or Italian sausages, you need to have enough trust in your relationship to know that everyone will keep their pants on. Interrogating your partner or obsessively creeping on their Facebook will only stress you both out and end up harming your relationship.