I count my blessings and Virgil has his space

Someone decorates the street outside the flat last night. Having space seems to be working for Virgil. In the morning he sends me a picture of it:

"This greeted me upon my exit :)"

I rejoice but don't answer immediately because I am busy writing. Half an hour later, another text:

"Miss you!"

Smiling, I reply:

"Finally! :)"

Then, because I don't want to appear too craven:

"That was a joke"

Soon after comes:

"Did you see the image I sent?"

So I text:

"Yes I did. I think it raises the tone in our road immeasurably x"

My spark is returning. This morning I found myself whistling and my appetite is coming back. I think I'll go and get my bike today; I want to be riding again. It feels really weird* that what was my home for more than two years in the blink of an eye no longer feels comfortable but I am lucky: I am staying with my brother in an airy, comfortable house. Friendly people live in it and it's right near my neighborhood. There is a garden and a park across the street.

Soon I am going to find a place that feels right for me, not Virgil's flat but one I choose myself. It will have windows I can see out from and green space outside. Good things will happen. This is not a disaster: it's an opportunity for change, growth and things to get better, I tell myself. I mean it a bit more each day.

*Ok, actually it's sad. I feel sad that I can't go home. If I'm honest, I feel a bit resentful about it too. I mean, Virgil's work vs. my home? I hope he appreciates this. Actually I know he does appreciate it. Why am I writing this? Move on, Harlot. Love and support are whatever they need to be and Virgil has given me plenty in our time together.
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