The partner and I lived by ourselves for years, even though for few months here and there during that time we actually resided in the same city. It’s not that we didn’t want to live together; it’s just that whatever plans were made never actually materialized. Every time we looked into moving in together something or the other would come up and eventually we would end up dropping the plan. And all those weekends that the partner would visit (or the few times that I went to visit him), were hard. When it came time to bid goodbye, I would turn into a well of tears. Going back to the apartment, leaving the partner to go his way, wasn’t something I looked forward to, even though I was going home.
Things aren’t the same now. If someone asked me for a snapshot of my idea of ideal life, I would close my eyes and picture the two of together in Boston. But life took a different turn and here we are. We’ve been living together ever since we moved away from Boston. It’s been over a year. I still go through that bout of yearning to be in Boston, but those are few and far between compared to this time last year. And, to make the most of what we’ve got, the transition of calling this place home is happening, albeit slowly.
After every vacation or weekend getaway, I look forward to getting back home. There are no more waterworks to worry about, no farewell to bid. Even returning home after work every evening is a pleasant urge. I enjoy the feeling of comfort that surrounds. I quite like experiencing the contentment that it offers. I love that it is ours.
Our home, our haven.
We have had friends and family visit us in the past year. While there is nothing remarkably beautiful about the décor around the house (I must admit that I don’t have eyes for decorating. I can go ‘ooohh’ and ‘aaahh’ looking at photos of beautiful interiors, but when it comes to doing that myself I lack the talent and enthusiasm. Credit goes to the partner for small things that have been done right) , I have had people notice and comment on two things in particular.
One – the books that are all over the place. It makes me particularly happy when someone notices this. I don’t know why. Most of the books in my possession I know I have bought with a lot of love. It takes me back to all those times that I’ve walked around different bookshops and bought the ones I fell in love with. And the rest came into my life in the form of gifts. So, each and every one of them is precious to me in one way or another. And someone taking interest in that makes my heart swell with joy.
Two – the fragrance that encases the rooms. It’s no secret that I love candles and incenses. Back in Boston, that small room of mine in that apartment used to be lit every single evening that I was home. The ambiance of a room changes when the flame of candle gracefully sways. And to me, especially, it feels magical. So, even after moving here, I have kept up with the tradition of lighting candles and incenses every chance I get. And people spot it. A friend visited us earlier this year… as soon as she entered our home she said she loved the way it smells. When we went to her place a few weeks ago she kept mentioning the same and asked me over and over what I did to make the house smell so heavenly. And with that remark, she made my day.
So, there. While I may not have given any artsy touches to the house, I still have my books and fragrance to take the attention away from the otherwise ordinary place. My most cherished collection of books. My divinely scented candles. My blissful adobe. Life is good.