There is no greater feeling than returning home at the end of a long, cold day.
This feeling of familiarity and comfort that hits the minute you enter through the door makes up, possibly, for all the issues one may have faced during the day.
To know exactly where everything is and to have the freedom and luxury to arrange things just the way you want them.
To be greeted by that pop of color that never fails to impress or pictures and mementos from earlier, happy times.
To be proud that after you spent many weekends going from one furniture store to the other, calculating the measures down to the very last centimeter, everything fits and is in its right place.
That all, in my opinion, makes all the frustrations we may have faced last year worthwhile. I do have to say that we’re a lot luckier than most people because we didn’t have any major difficulties. But it was not entirely a walk in the park.
And while it’s true that we did feel tired at many points, and that I sometimes felt like I had no idea what I was doing, or had no clue how everything would come together, I don’t think I would change much about this place.
Especially my kitchen. I would never give up my kitchen for anything.
Or my spot on the couch where I normally doze off as Ahmad is watching football.
Or my makeup dresser that was actually my grandmother’s sewing machine. Or my writing desk that was my grandfather’s.
Or the little couch full of color we found by accident but decided would be perfect for our bedroom. It sits perfectly under the window, for those days when you just want to read and forget about the rest of the world.
(Though I would totally change my bathroom- that is an epic disaster and we had no hand in deciding what went into it.)
I may have struggled in the past with understanding where home is for me, but I know now that it couldn’t be anywhere other than right here, this little space in the world that Ahmad and I worked on together.
Beyond Beirut 