I have a tree on my backyard which apparently hosts lots of fireflies. Thus, at night when I sit on my balcony, I'd see lights twinkling, blinking, coming out from the tree.
It is a wonderful sight.
People say that the feeling of having your first house is indescribable. I don't feel that high.
Not that I don't love having a 'somewhat' permanent place to live, but, indescribable feeling is, for me, when I hug my mom after two years of half the world separation. Or when my boyfriend put his arms around my shoulder and sniff my hair, or a simple smile & 'hey' greeting from him after a rotten day at work.
Having a house... is an accomplishment. I don't feel that high, because I don't get it for free.

I waited for that high feeling when I moved in. It hasn't kicked in yet. What comes instead is the constant lengthy calculation in my head, and the disturbance of those boxes, screaming to be unpacked.

I don't feel the 'high'.

But I do feel at home. And I'm happy with this place. I feel like I made the right decision. That I'm going to the right direction.
I feel good about this. And the fireflies confirm it. At nights, it's just us. The fireflies and me, they keep me company.

The other day, I killed a spider. It's bigger than the ones I usually see. With longer legs (hence bigger steps, hence faster speed).
Oh well,... the life in the suburb.
I'm not keen to animals with lots of legs, to say the least, but I guess I didn't have the time to be a sissy. I needed to kill it before it ran and hide inside.
I remember thinking cynically, soon enough after this, I'll get over my cockroach phobia and conquer the world.

I have a deck and a balcony overlooking to some trees and a golf course, balanced with a loan with Citi mortgage.

Man,...
I have a house.

Oh, I better double check that I have scheduled the next mortgage payment online, due on August 1st.