Not just a house, but a home.

I miss the cold, early morning light that filters through our living room blinds in my Glasgow apartment. That peeks from that one huge window in my little room. Twinkling on the carpeted floor right under my writing desk, growing gently to a bright ray bouncing off my door, coaxing me out of bed.

Cozy in the many layers of duvets and warm throws, a good mug of freshly brewed coffee, music drifting from my ancient laptop, staring at nothing in particular, thinking about nothing in particular, just being... There. Those precious private moments to myself, before being subjected to the demands of everyday life. 

I miss that little bit of peace and serenity I had, having a sanctuary, a safe area I will always be happy to come home to.

God, I know that letting it go was inevitable but.. Somewhere, sometime, can I have that again?