I really loved this apartment. It was the first time I was living on my own. A cozy basement studio apartment, grocery store in walking distance. It was wonderful for me. A lot happened to me here. I grew as a person. I stained the walls and floors with tears. I fell in love here.

I loved the orange kitchen light barely lighting the whole room. I loved how comfy it felt to be on my couch, a little nook flanked on both sides with a colorful carpet inbetween (not the easiest to get in and out of.) While I only took advantage of this aspect in the last few months I lived there, I loved how open the kitchen felt. Its nice to see someone you love waiting patiently as I'm a busy body making something for us to eat. It's a basement apartment and I had a very poor view of outside, facing directly at another building. Regardless, I saw squirrels and geese and one time I saw turkeys. Most of all, I loved the snow piling up outside the window and how light would reflect off the snow into my apartment in a cool blue.

I'm a sentimental person. I hold onto the things I love so tight, even when the moment's over. I have a big dumb heart. I live somewhere else now with my partner; my old apartment would have been way too small. I love where I am now and I love the person I share this space with. I love the now two cats that live with me now. And my new place has a great view! But still, I miss the first place I truly felt like a real person. My only regret is the last month I lived there leaves a stain on my impression of it. To put it short, a strong paranoia took hold of me and I had a lot of trouble sleeping. But that's in the past.

Anyways. Here's some pictures I took just before I started packing. Click to see the full resolution image. Apologies if some are blurry. I'd retake them if I could

bless bless