This is the first really nice weekend Buffalo has seen in quite a few long, cold, gray months.

I should have wanted to be outside from dawn until dusk. Part of me did, but the other part was eager to open my windows, take a nap in my bed with the sun beaming down, and rearrange my entire apartment.

As I sit here, still new to this space, still trying to figure out how to get to know these floors and walls, I feel a little overwhelmed with expectations.

I can’t rush this settling in. It doesn’t work like that. I wish I could just wake up and feel absolutely at home. In fact, I don’t know if I’ve ever really felt that. I was raised on being able to adjust and shift, emotionally and physically.

Certain pieces of me will always feel restless.

Despite that, I’m doing my best to settle in and make this home. It’s a slow process and this is how I’ve got to do it.

So this weekend I spent much needed time sorting and shifting pieces of furniture I’ve acquired into a placement that felt right, I added some babies to my mini-jungle (plant obsession addiction situation), I cooked food – I ate it, I laid in my sun spots like my cat, I listened to all of Thievery Corporations albums back to back, I tried to find some familiarity in the smells in my clothes, and I read until I fell into another mid-day slumber.

When I think about my days spent alone, it makes me feel like Amelie and the magic she seemed to find in everything within her own world. I feel sometimes, more often than not, we get entangled in other people’s magic and forget our own.

People invest in relationships all too quickly and find themselves down the road forgetting their own hair color and favorite taste.

Simple things that you once owned become “ours” and moments shared become definitions of days. For some reason, this is a turn off to me right now. I need to be creatively delicate about entangling my world with another and I’m realizing I may be one of those people who has her own apartment forever, or a separate bedroom because that’s how good my alone time feels.

At the same time, I’ve shared my world with people and it’s been great, so I’m not saying it’ll never happen. But right now, I need to own this space & time a little bit longer.

Does anyone feel this vibe? Am I speaking to the air – sending smoke signals through bat caves that a soul doesn’t exist within? Perhaps it’s like my tattoos, I don’t need you to understand them, but at least be willing to try.