When I complain about never having been loved, I suspect part of it is that none of my relationships have ever come remotely close to living with someone. (Heck most of them didn't even involve spending the night).
Living with someone is a big thing that says to me that there is a strong commitment to the relationship. (Of course that could be because I've only lived with my parents, and one unstable housemate).
Also I wish there was someone there I could cuddle with.