Hey you. Long time no see.

 

Every now and then, I stop with whatever I'm doing and just think about the fact that I've moved out and am living with my two cats. It's so peaceful. So peaceful that when I think about it, and really soak it up, it becomes slightly frightening. I'm not sure why that is. Perhaps it still feels surreal.

 

It's Monday night and I'm watching TV. I gaze out through the windows and watch the stillness of the neighbourhood. For a moment, it seems as if time halts and this peaceful evening is going to be forever. I wish I could preserve it. This feeling of content. 

 

It's imaginable that a few years ago, my life was restrained into just one single room. How could a square like that fit my entire life? How did I not go mad? I can't remember how it felt. My old room. I remember how much I loved it. It was my refuge. My sacturary.

 

But this, this is different. A refuge implies that there is something to escape from. A terror that won't really grant you serenity even in hiding. I'm no longer seeking asylum. I'm right where I belong. And it belongs to me. I'm home.