Just for Now

Journal Entry - 7

414 Lantern Avenue, Apartment 6B.

Our first apartment wasn't anything to brag about. The front door got jammed when you locked it. The shower got hot maybe half of the time. Alli swore she saw a mouse when we opened the door. Our furniture hardly fit the tiny space, we were barely able to get our couch in there. The elevator to our floor looked as if it would plummet down at any second.

But it was ours.

About a year after graduating college, we decided to move in together. We weren't sure if it was too soon, but considering we had been together for years by that point, it didn't feel too fast at all. We got a place in New York City, but since we couldn't afford much, it was one of the smallest places I've ever seen in my life. But it felt perfect. All of it.

Decorating it was surprisingly fun. We took our time with it so we could get it perfect. I wasn't sure how long we would stay in the apartment considering it felt like we were risking our lives every time we took a step. We ended up living there for about a year. I ended up getting a promotion at work which boosted our budget for rent. But even now, that was my favorite place we ever lived in. Maybe because it was the first thing we really shared, but either way, I miss it.

One of the first nights we were there, Alli begged me to dance. I was never one for dancing, but I could never say no to her, and she knew that. She played her favorite slow song, and guided one hand onto her waist and the other into her own. She took the lead with the dance, knowing that I wasn't entirely sure what I was doing.

That song ended up being our first dance song.

We danced around our moving boxes, tripping over them with every step we took. Neither of us cared. Her laugh was addicting and I did everything I could possibly think of to hear more of it. Her red hair spun around her as we moved and it looked mesmerizing. I kept spinning her so I could see it.

We went on for hours. I usually gave her a hard time about dancing at anything, but I didn't say a word to stop us. I never wanted to stop. I would've been content for eternity if I got to hold her in my arms forever. If I had known what I knew now, I never would've let us stop dancing.

Sometimes when I blink, I can still see ourselves dancing in the run down apartment. I can still hear her laugh and see her smile, trying not to make me feel bad for stepping on her feet. I can still feel her in my arms if I think hard enough about it.

That apartment felt untouched, in my head. Because our next one was really where everything went wrong.

It was more of a luxury place. It felt all wrong. Nothing felt the same as it did in that first apartment. I didn't realize the couch we crammed into our old living room would one day become my bed. I didn't realize the freedom you had with a front door that didn't jam when you slammed it shut behind you. I had no clue that not fearing for your life on an elevator made it a lot easier to leave when things went wrong.

Our rundown and old apartment is where we were at our strongest.

Our perfect apartment is where we fell apart.

I don't exactly know what that means for us, but maybe if we just could've stayed at that point in time where my biggest concern was not stepping on her feet as we danced around the kitchen... maybe we could've been okay.