We have our own address. Our own furniture. Our own bedroom. This weekend we got the keys to our apartment–and I have to keep telling myself that. Never before has something been so intrinsically mine. My parents didn’t pay for it. Loans aren’t covering it. I won’t have to move out in nine months. We’ve been moving furniture and stuff in and my fiance and I keep stopping and reminding each other that this is our apartment. We’re not living in it yet, but our stuff is. We have two weeks of school to get through first, then a wedding, and then we can officially start living there. Until then we’ll keep dropping stuff off, putting boxes and books away, and reminding ourselves that we have a home. Wow.