The Census

Oh, werd?
I have been an adult for almost as long as you can be without ever being counted in the census as an adult, so it was with mounting anticipation that I opened the mailbox every day looking for my census form. Each day, a frantic scramble of mailbox keys, and each day, a disappointing pile of bills for Brian, bank statements for Shamar, and a Netflix envelope. As a social science dork, I looked forward to detailing my age, racial makeup, and religious practices, and I looked forward to finding out how many other lapsed Methodists with BAs lived in New Jersey.
Imagine my disappointment then, when the census form finally arrived, and it asked me almost nothing! Age? Boring. Race? White. I didn't even get to check an extra box there! Doesn't anyone want to know how quarter Jewish I am!?
Page two asks me to describe my relationship to "Person 2".
"Alas," I thought to myself. "This page would have been way more fun to fill out two years ago when Shamar was in the other room and Brian lived on our couch."
Person 3's relationship to Person 1? Is guy-who-used-to-live-here-and-followed-his-heart-across-the
-country-with-a-guitar-but-had-to-come-back-and-live-on-my-couch a check box?
But here was a conundrum... what *is* Person 1's relationship to Person 2? Are me and Eric housemates/roommates or unmarried partners? (Cue Carrie Bradshaw...)
I decided to poll the world.

Eric: I think you should decide.
Shamar: I think "unmarried partners" is like, people who are engaged but not married yet.
Tara: I put me and Sam down as unmarried partners. Wait, was that wrong?
Guy at bar: Aren't "unmarried partners" like, marriages for gay people?
David Tash: Well, looking at it logically, you were partners before you were housemates.... so that's what you should check.

Logic wins.