When we first moved here we had been married for 9 months. This was our first time living on our own. It was then we fell in to real married people roles and became responsible for just the two of us. We had our own apartment with our own furniture, we could come and go as we pleased, we could have friends over whenever we liked. We didn't need permission for anything. We moved from a nice soggy, green area to a brown, dusty area where our noses and lips would bleed constantly. We complained a lot about it.
We would leave every summer to work in the soggy land where minimum wage is much more than it is here. We'd go back to the 'restricted' life and fall back into our routine of being son and daughter in a home where we tried to reside by someone elses roles. And we'd long for our little stark white apartment that was always too dry.
We have 6 weeks left here now and are freaking out.
The picture to go with this post is one of my friend, Joy's tattooed ankle and the matching tattoo she drew on mine after they had left and came back to visit. They lived in the apartment below us for a long time. They moved away and then we moved for a summer and came back to live in the apartment which is directly across from where they lived.
Joy always had a hot apple pie candle on her burner that infused the stairwell with the delicious scent every time they opened their door. I burn that candle now and have been for so long that I can't even smell it any more. Hopefully it gives somebody's nose buds a treat when my door is open.
The tattoo washed away, the friendship has faded, the smell of the candle doesn't exisit in my nostrils anymore. I want all of them back though.
We would leave every summer to work in the soggy land where minimum wage is much more than it is here. We'd go back to the 'restricted' life and fall back into our routine of being son and daughter in a home where we tried to reside by someone elses roles. And we'd long for our little stark white apartment that was always too dry.
We have 6 weeks left here now and are freaking out.
The picture to go with this post is one of my friend, Joy's tattooed ankle and the matching tattoo she drew on mine after they had left and came back to visit. They lived in the apartment below us for a long time. They moved away and then we moved for a summer and came back to live in the apartment which is directly across from where they lived.
Joy always had a hot apple pie candle on her burner that infused the stairwell with the delicious scent every time they opened their door. I burn that candle now and have been for so long that I can't even smell it any more. Hopefully it gives somebody's nose buds a treat when my door is open.
The tattoo washed away, the friendship has faded, the smell of the candle doesn't exisit in my nostrils anymore. I want all of them back though.
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