It continues

I moved into a new apartment this week. Or, at least I got the keys. It's old, probably built in the 1920s or 30s, and the hardwood floors are beautiful with mahogany inlays, but the walls reveal their years... i'm going to paint, remove the yellow from the living room walls (I've read Charlotte Perkins Gilman). The bedroom is painted a dirty santarium blue that needs to be replaced. But the apartment still gives me a thrill everytime I walk in. The space is tremendous. After my tiny New York City apartment, palatial even. There's even (a) hallway for me to meander. I wonder if during lonely moments I won't know what to do with myself in there. It may be, but for the moment, I'm savoring the vastness.

Something larger has been building this week. I left it for the second graph. I realized that I may be falling in love with the Boy today. From the beginning it occured to me that this could happen. I fall in love easily. But things unraveled with him at the end of summer, and then were clumsly refashioned into a relationship...although perhaps it wasn't so slapdash, because what is between us now is something...far more than it ever was before. There is a depth of emotion that I didn't think I would be able to have for him after we briefly fell apart. And it's caught me by surprise. But when I lay next to him in the dark at night, and hear him breathing next to me...i am perfectly content.

I am not foolish about love, I know that perfection doesn't exist, and that even it's doppelganger, when it's there, doesn't always stick around for long. I am a half empty.

But for now, I am going to try enjoy being full.