It's funny, but the novel has made me feel more like I live here too. I watched some tv with Kevin last night, but by eleven or so, the novel ideas were itching at me too much, so I came out to the living room, settled down with headphones and my computer. I thought for a while, then wrote for a while, while he watched a Sharks hockey game in the other room. (I honestly don't think he liked sports much when we started dating; I'm not sure when that changed.) But sitting here, writing my thing and mostly ignoring him; that felt real; it felt right, in a way that's hard to explain. And when he came to tell me that he was going to bed, I said goodnight but kept writing. I'm not sure that would have happened, if I were just here for a visit. I would have been too aware of how little time we had together; it would have been hard giving any of it up. Now I have the luxury of being able to ignore him for a while, to work without feeling like I'm giving up important time with him. It's so lovely; just a wonderful free feeling. Maybe we can do this. Fingers crossed.
I took a break partway through and cleared off one of his shelves and put my books on it. Alphabetized them too -- both the ones I'd read, and the ones I hadn't yet. Very satisfying, even though it's only about fifteen books (some left here previously, and some I brought with me). It's amazing how my books help make the space mine. Very comforting.
Now I've lit a few candles and I really ought to get to work. Will check in with y'all later, I'm sure. Have a good day!