(a stolen moment to write while at work!)

yesterday was one of the nights where i've gotten the least amount of sleep in months, and although i just want to rendezvous with my pillow, that's not what i want to say this morning.

for as long as i can remember, i've experienced this feeling i can't describe. it is the most consuming feeling i have ever experienced. i haven't felt it in so long. i've grown numb and distant from myself. we had been encased in a small bedroom together for nearly two years; our bed became our kitchen table, our couch, our place to love, wrestle, sleep. at night i stood on my balcony, staring at the view outside my new home. i'm not sure how long i stood there. it seemed it was only seconds, but it was clearly more. i watched the lights reflect off of the pool and stared at an infinite number of stars that hung above palm trees embedded into the grass. i felt alive. exhausted. awake. overwhelmed. complete. that night we made love that seemed to continue until i had made him breakfast the next morning. afterwards we tangled ourselves on the couch, watching discovery channel, letting the morning sunlight in.

i suppose i've fallen in love with my apartment, and i think i felt my apartment fall in love with me.