Say Goodnight

"Home is where your story begins."

It's been raining for days. The light above the door is shattered. The cabinet won't close. The shower door sticks. I live underneath what sounds like a herd of elephants but is actually 7 children and their parents whom I don't doubt feel overwhelmed often. It's like the Van Trapp family in Queens. I exist in no more then 500 square feet with one other person. There is construction going on directly on the opposite side of the wall I sleep next to. The stove barely works. The floors creek. The heater hisses. The entire building smells like something I can't put my finger on. I hate not being able to put my finger on it. My roommate is slightly off, but she smiles when she is happy, and she lives life with a vengeance so far as I can tell. Regardless, it's grown on me. Like moss on a tree stump, it was inevitable I would eventually call this home.

This is home.

And this is where my story has found a new beginning.

My pillows are softer then a thousand angel's wings. My comforter is red, not the obnoxious kind but the kind that makes you feel warm inside. It's the kind that makes you want to drop what you are doing and curl in a ball to nap for a while. My room is small, but so am I. The shower gets so hot it burns my skin when I get in. I love that. The stove is awful but I have still managed to make food that I would go so far as to call delicious. My friends voices have filled this small space with laughter on many weekends. The pictures in my room hang deliberately and effortlessly on the walls, as the people in them do in my life. The bathroom is blue. It's peaceful.

The living room basically consists of a couch, a chair, and a TV. The collection of movies beside the TV is priceless though, as are the books waiting for a shelf to sit on. I've fallen asleep on this couch watching a movie, reading a book, and staring at the ceiling. It took me weeks to be able to relax in my bed. It's as if it was foreign to me. I fought with myself about it, and then one day, I stopped fighting. Life began to fall into place. Granted, I've learned some things about myself and about my life that have made those pieces fall easier. They have fallen though exactly where they were meant to fall. Just like a puzzle is meant to come together, so are the pieces of our lives.

There came a day when I put my head on the pillow, felt my breath flow effortlessly throughout my body, closed my eyes, and let life fall away. That was the day I began to call this home.

Nothing is perfect, including me. This apartment is small, even teeny I would say. It's enough for now though. It's big enough to carry my dreams, my laughter, my tears, and my bed which I love so very much...

So I say goodnight, and I let it go.