Since I moved out of my parents’ house when I was 18, I’ve lived in half a dozen different places and had several roommates. Some of the people I lived with were gamers, and some were not, but other than having someone to play Halo or Toe Jam & Earl with, my roommates’ gaming ability didn’t really affect my living situation. Since 2008, though, I have been living with my boyfriend (who is actually now my fiancé), who loves video games just as much as I do. Needless to say, our living arrangement has been a little different than the typical roommate scenario, since we tend to spend a lot more time hanging out at home (and don’t have separate rooms to hide in when we get sick of each other). While it’s usually pretty awesome to live with another gamer, there can be some drawbacks as well. Here are some of the perks and pitfalls of cohabitating with a gamer, should you ever find yourself in the same situation.

The Perks:

Taking turns buying games means reduced gaming costs. My significant other and I have fairly similar tastes when it comes to gaming. I may not enjoy sports games the way that he does, and he doesn’t feel the need to play every JRPG that comes into the house, but for the most part, we enjoy a lot of the same games. This comes in handy during heavy months of triple-A retail releases, particularly during the overcrowded holiday season. Last November, when Left 4 Dead 2, Assassin’s Creed II, New Super Mario Bros. Wii, and God of War Collection all came out during the same week, it was sort of a relief to be able to take home all four games without individually shelling out over $200.

There’s always someone to play with. Some people wonder why developers still include split screen modes, since Xbox Live and the PlayStation Network have taken multiplayer gaming to new levels this generation. However, we still use split screen, and I can definitely appreciate its inclusion. Without split screen co-op, we would never be able to play Left 4 Dead 2 together, which would kind of suck. Even without split screen, it’s still nice to always have someone around to collect coins with in New Super Mario Bros. Wii, to try out new DLC with in Rock Band 2, or to just pass the time with in a friendly game of Scene It. Sure, I could always go on Xbox Live and find a friend to play with (for some games, at least), but there’s no guarantee that any of my friends will be online, let alone playing the games I want to play. Besides, there’s something to be said about playing multiplayer games the old-fashioned way: in the same room.

We actually understand each other. Sometimes, you just want to talk to someone about what you’re playing. It’s why many of us frequent gaming sites and participate with comments and forum posts, and it’s one of the reasons I got into gaming journalism to begin with. It can be frustrating, however, trying to explain the intricacies of Final Fantasy XII’s battle system, or why I just ran over a prostitute in GTA: Vice City, or even explaining my latest project in RPG Maker 3, to someone who just doesn’t care. Even if my so-called better half hasn’t played Odin Sphere, I know he’ll listen to me when I tell him about the fantastic gameplay, or curse the difficulty of the final bosses.

Gaming is the center of the household. When I lived with roommates, I typically kept my consoles in my bedrooms, playing out of sight and out of the way of the house’s living room and main TV area. In our house, the next-gen systems are in the TV room, along with the 46-inch HDTV. It’s nice to be able to play games without having to feel like I’m hiding out.

The Pitfalls:

Sharing isn’t always caring. Oh sure, you might think that living with another serious gamer is all sunshine and kittens, but it can be frustrating at times. We’re not always playing two-player games, and sometimes we just have to share—share the TV, share the consoles, share the games. I might want to play Final Fantasy XIII after dinner, but he wants to play Resonance of Fate. We try to be fair to each other, carving out our own times for gaming, but there has been a squabble or two over who gets to play, and when.

Spoiler Alert! In February, he was playing Heavy Rain, a game I had been looking forward to for months. Obviously, in a story-heavy, suspenseful mystery title like that, spoilers can be a problem. I ended up hiding out upstairs, with the smaller TV and the PS2 while he played Heavy Rain so that it wouldn’t be ruined for me. We’ve both run into issues with spoilers before, whether it was when he got to BioShock’s big plot twist before I’d had a chance to start the game, or when I encountered the third Scarecrow rendezvous in Batman: Arkham Asylum with him in the room. Spoilers can’t always be avoided, and it can be annoying to have a major story moment ruined for you because you’ve already watched someone play it through.

Competition isn’t necessarily friendly. When we’re playing together, it’s not always cooperatively. I might take that propeller hat he wanted. He might be scathingly obnoxious about his tenth win in Buzz! Quiz World. I might force him to quit by nailing him with a blue shell in Mario Kart Wii. Sometimes our competitive natures can spill over into games that aren’t supposed to pit us against each other. He might leave me to die in Left 4 Dead 2, while I’ll admit I’m always happy to get a better score than him in Rock Band 2. It’s all fun and games until people start throwing controllers.

Yes, living with another gamer isn’t always peachy, but for me it sure as hell beats living with someone who has no interest in my lifelong hobby. Sure, there are some drawbacks, but the pros outweigh the cons, so I guess I’ll stick around. Besides, breaking up now would be a whole other issue—who gets what system? How do we split up the games? No, I’d probably better see this through until the end. I just wish he would stop taking my goddamn penguin suit.