They came over to our house today to install the TV unit, almost a month and a half after they were supposed to. It’s the TV unit I’ll probably tell stories about to my family, guests, and probably our children.
With that in place, all the big pieces in our living room are where they belong.
It’s surely starting to feel like home. Jut not fast enough.
After the installation guys left, I sat down on the couch and took a deep breath and looked around the room. It’s far from being complete, but I keep being told it’s unrealistic to have a complete house before we move in.
You’ve got to live in it first and see how the space fits you before you do anything, I keep hearing.
But I don’t know. To me, it’s not the furniture, the plates, the vases, the curtains, or the decorative items that will make it home.
It’s having my makeup scattered all over the dresser. And my clothes hanging in the closet that smells like my Burberry London. And my go-to shampoo in the shower. And my favorite chocolates in the fridge. And our favorite pictures hanging all around the apartment. And my beat-up vintage desk that I wouldn’t trade for the world finding its spot.
And knowing he won’t leave at the end of the night.