It’s been a while since  I moved in.  Back in February, I was just in a rush to find a place I could call home near my work.  But it was not difficult finding one.  Like a pampered child, I only went to two viewings and clicked really well with my current landlord.

It’s  a place I now call home.  Nestled in a slope in between beach shores and a hill, my window opens to more foggy days and beautiful sunsets. 

I’ve always wanted a spot near the beach, a place near a college-town, a home near the park.  I wanted to experience mornings where the best cafes are by the beach and morning coffee is served with sunrise on a bun.  I wanted to have evenings walking and, someday, running through hilly streets with the burning calories masking the chilly night air.

And I got all of that.

Today, I went to get myself a doctor around the neighborhood.

Today, I took a tram to dinner and an errand at the bank.

Today, I walked home as the dusk fell, on hilly streets with my iPod and headphones on.

Today, I finally got my card to the city public library from the branch conveniently sitting on my block.

Today, I came home to the green house with the night door lights on, keyed in the lock to my unit and felt thankful and anxious at the same time.

Because… although definitely not tomorrow… but maybe someday sooner… I stand to lose this dream come true.  Because it has a price.  And I’m afraid the day is drawing nearer when I could no longer afford it.

Like in a summer night’s dream that began in early spring that I don’t want to wake from, my heart swells to the pool of tears brimming in my eyes.

If I could only have one prayer, one dream…

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