Half-awake in a half-way home
From this corner of the living room I can see all the large windows and the green trees outside. Hear the chirping of the birds and watch the morning sunlight dance on the empty wooden floor.
Although the flat is far from complete and we are missing quite crucial items, such as tables and chairs, I look around and feel happy with this half-way home.
At the back of the bedroom door my boyfriend is sleeping still.
He woke up in the middle of the night in a sweat, thinking he was still digging holes in the sand at the turtle sanctuary in Costa Rica.
The experience of living the simple life for three months, biking on dirt roads, being out on open water or sharing beers in the sun with new friends, was suddenly so obviously distant. I could tell he was almost panicking, finding himself back in a place where paychecks and shirt labels are considered important. A place that has served its purpose in his life.
We lay talking until the sun rose. About where we are now and where we want to be.
And the necessary steps we need to take to get there.