Home? What Home?

I want my own place. I don't need a huge place. I'm not looking for a bungalow on a hill with a garden large enough to build a thousand annexes. No no, a small one would do. A tiny two-bedroom apartment would suffice. In fact, it would do just nice. I'd be contented for it'd be my space. My very own little Shangri-La where I escape the realities of the life I lead.

The house I get to call my home.

I'd get to play House. But in real life. I'd decorate it. I'd dress it up. Each room, different and special in its own way. But together, they complement one another like peanut butter and jelly. Contrasting but never conflicting, they bring to mind parallel lines that may never meet but will always go along their merry way, contented by being side by side, and moving together in fluid harmony.

Sigh.

I want my own place.