these walls are waiting for stories

new apartment. new home. my own bathroom, my own bed, my own small space. i can shut the door and find the kind of quiet i’ve been missing. i can finish writing the stories i started and left, halfway through. i can play the same fifty songs on repeat for hours. this last week will take days to write, but it needs to be written. tomorrow is monday, midterms begin. on friday, i’m turning twenty one. this new place. new apartment. new home. i think it’s like a birthday present to myself. thank you. it’s exactly what i wanted.