I can't wait to get out of here. Make a life of my own. My house will be a home, with photographs on every wall, an acoustic in every room, dim lightbulbs, a snazzy toaster, cups of tea, wine glasses scattered, polite get togethers every weekend, a tree swing in the garden, a house filled with laughter. A house built on love. His and my shoes by the door, his coat covering mine. Tee-shirts scrumpled on the bedroom floor, soft music playing throughout the building. A river out the back, which we sit by in the summer. Fairy lights enlaced through the banister. Memories align the mantle piece. Fingertips trace the soft petals of the flowers in the many vases. And in the rain, we'll sit inside and breathe in the air of our home.
