I have arrived and it’s mine! I’ve needed my own space for longer than I care or dare to remember. My first flat, and it's so big! Until the furniture arrives, it echoes cheerfully as I squeak my shoes proudly across the warm floorboards. The dream has at last been realised. How does that saying go? “An Englishman’s home is his castle”. This is my castle. I am home.

I am the king of my castle. I have my own garden complete with patio, flower-beds and a pond. My own shed and a garage too. My own kitchen – oh, the marvellous smells that will soon be emanating…

It seems so quiet. The neighbours are out at work. There is a crisp still winter’s day gently peering in through the windows. It must be chilly out - not even a chorus or melody from the birds perched tightly in pairs on those naked branches. The flat is warm - toasty even, although I feel strangely cold. It really is silent. Not a peep.

Is it just that the furniture hasn't arrived yet? Yes, that must be it. The sofas can go over there, dining table and piano in here... Then there are all those little personal possessions that help to mark your territory and define who you are. Objects, textures and colours – they all have such special meaning, and hold so many wonderful memories. Once my belongings are here, everything will be perfect.

The furniture is installed, ornaments-a-plenty laid out delicately on various ledges and plinths. Familiar shapes abound. Winter is no longer tapping on my windows. Through new leaves playing in a gentle breeze, warm sunlight streams in and dances with the shadows on the floorboards and walls. The kitchen is stocked and alive with a pleasant aroma of culinary experimentation - but it is still quiet. Quiet can be good; relaxing. Some jazz, I think... a glass of soft Merlot and a good book. The evening draws on yet again, time to sleep. I am lucky to have such a good life. But there is something else. Something I still crave.

Let’s throw a party! The windows are wide open in the late summer sun. The front room unrolls and becomes part of the garden, radiant and efflorescent. People everywhere. Good people. My flat couldn’t have a fuller atmosphere. We all drink, laugh and talk about our days when traveling and at University. Conversation extends well into the evening and the garden is tastefully shimmering by candlelight, but it’s getting late and two by two they offer their goodbyes. Great party they said, must do it again sometime. But it’s now quiet once more. So quiet. Why do I feel that something is still missing?

Isn’t it obvious? All I need now is someone with which to share this flat and this warmth. Someone to talk with. How about a glass of wine? A game of cards? I need someone close - closer. Someone to ease this silence that smothers me. Someone to cook for, to be cooked for. Someone to share the days experiences with, be they exciting or otherwise. To hold. Just to hold. I need someone to get me out of this flat and allow me to see the world. I crave companionship. All this time alone in my first flat. I just need someone to love.

This submission has been viewed 4003 times.