Dear Apartment,
I miss you. I want to lie down on your overstuffed (and sometimes a little hairy) green couch, and watch hours of unnecessary CSI re-runs on SpikeTV. I want to light your Citrus-Cilantro and Butter-Vanilla candles. I wouldn't even mind washing dirty dishes if it meant coming home.
Will you ever forgive me for not sweeping often enough, and for marking up the dining room wall while crookedly carrying my unassembled bed frame? I feel like I'm cheating on you by staying here, in another state, in another house. This house is old, musty, and full of other's people's medicine cabinet contents -- not my familiar Kroger dental floss, leave-in conditioner spray, 7-day scrub, and Shiseido purifying face mask.
I don't care if your bathroom window no longer opens, and that the hallway outside my door is sort of smelly and needs re-carpeting. I miss you, apartment. Hope to see you soon.
Love always,
Jamie
I miss you. I want to lie down on your overstuffed (and sometimes a little hairy) green couch, and watch hours of unnecessary CSI re-runs on SpikeTV. I want to light your Citrus-Cilantro and Butter-Vanilla candles. I wouldn't even mind washing dirty dishes if it meant coming home.
Will you ever forgive me for not sweeping often enough, and for marking up the dining room wall while crookedly carrying my unassembled bed frame? I feel like I'm cheating on you by staying here, in another state, in another house. This house is old, musty, and full of other's people's medicine cabinet contents -- not my familiar Kroger dental floss, leave-in conditioner spray, 7-day scrub, and Shiseido purifying face mask.
I don't care if your bathroom window no longer opens, and that the hallway outside my door is sort of smelly and needs re-carpeting. I miss you, apartment. Hope to see you soon.
Love always,
Jamie
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