I don't nest very well.

I am realizing this more and more lately. I come into a living situation, I make a little nook for myself in someone else's cozy (or not cozy, as it were) home, and then I never make it my own, I just settle awkwardly for a time and then move shortly thereafter. Most of my things stay in boxes, I don't paint, I don't even stay at the house too much, usually. I end up staying at a significant other's house most nights (when I have one) because I inevitably end up feeling more comfortable at their place.

Since I moved out on my own in 1997 at age 17, I have moved roughly 12 times. I average about a year and some change at each place. Just enough time to get sick of not feeling comfortable, not enough time to really settle in entirely and as Paula Abdul on American Idol would say, "Really make it my own."

I often end up moving into someone's already established apartment, just to avoid all the hassle of a new one. But lately I have been aching to see a place of residence from start to finish. I want that empty feeling of a new environment in which I can plant my own seeds of comfort. I want to decorate (something I never ever do!). I want to make things match, put up shelves and buy a shitty cheap couch or something. I want to see what it is like to actually have my own space, to feel comfortable in that space.

I think I always felt safer avoiding getting too cozy in each apartment. I always knew it would be very temporary and what is the point of getting so elaborate with the space when I am just going to be leaving soon anyway? Maybe this is an accidental result of my very first apartment burning down. Perhaps now feel that life is too fleeting and your space can't always be your solace because it could go up in flames or be destroyed in a matter of seconds. It is sad, but I think there is something to that idea. All I have stock in is me, the clothes on my back and a couple of nice things, like a stereo and a TV and a bed and some books. And that has been enough.

Until now.

Now I feel a definite longing to be truly comfortable in my own space. And I don't mean just on a porch (which oftentimes becomes my "private space" in whatever apartment I share with someone else.) I want a bed that is big and soft and classy looking, a bathroom with colors I LIKE, that I picked out. A toilet only I clean. A kitchen with appliances and dishes that belong to ME. A place I can write and not be bothered...a desk even!

It will be difficult to spend the extra money, to live far away from my boyfriend, to get used to a very quiet space in my head, with no roommates to distract me.

But maybe it will ultimately be a good thing. Maybe it'll force me to finally clean up after myself and to REALLY invest in a home to call my own.

I hope it won't make me messier than I already am...yikes!