Home

So we spent last weekend in my place.
Sounds stupid, but it was really good to be home. After all the last weekends - and long weekends mostly - spent at Ingo´s place I had the feeling I´m on the run all the time, living out of the bag.
I´ve been in my place usually only from Tuesday evening until Friday morning.

Our apartments are so different - mine is full of light, it´s bright - but very small, it´s a one-room apartment.
Ingo´s is bigger, but dark - it was a mill before becoming an apartment house. Small windows don´t make it look friendly letting in only little light. The thick walls keep the warmth out. It´s not pleasantly cool but cold.

With places so different it´s not easy for me feeling home at Ingo´s place - especially in summer when outside the sun is shining.

Anyhow I will not feel too good this evening, either. I´m missing Ingo already.