This is my space. Where I live, love, laugh and most of all cry. I'll have to admit that moving to another country has been much, much harder than what I thought. I miss my house, my life, my street. I miss the bakery I used to have breakfast at, and the view from my windows. I miss the mountain, and the waether. But mostly I miss my house, this one is rented including the furniture, and it is a nice house but never in my life I would of decorated it like this, it is a matter of style. This house is just not my style. Can I tell you a secret from the bottom of my stomach? I DON'T LIKE IT! It's dark like a cave, and it has dark wood furniture, and ugly floors, and you can't open any windows because the neighbors are right infront. I feel terrible saying this, because after all I have a house to live in and I am grateful for that. But I really wish it was mine and that I could paint the walls, and buy furnitue in colors I like. I don't want to sound ungrateful, I apreciate having a home, but It is just that I realized how important is my living space for me, and how it affects my happiness. How nice it is to like and love the spaces you spend most of your time. How important it is to feel inspired by your surroundings. I'll have to do something about it.