One day, I will buy a house. I will paint the front door to match the shutters and put rocking chairs on the front porch. I’ll hang a wreath on the door and write my name on the mailbox. I will fill each room with old furniture and every surface will collect pretty little objects. The walls will be covered in wallpaper and hung with paintings. I will dress every bed in a soft, colorful quilt and hang my laundry to dry on a clothesline in the sunshine. I will place expensive candles in the bathroom and light them when guests visit. The kitchen will welcome visitors with the smell of bread and cookies and host endless conversation and laughter.
I will plant flowers everywhere: in front of the porch, along the driveway, under the mailbox, and beneath every tree. In the tall grass behind my house I will scatter wildflower seeds and watch a meadow bloom. Somewhere in that meadow I will nurture a garden filled with vegetables that will grow more bountiful every year. I will find a sunny spot and plant giant sunflowers whose shade will offer relief from the summer sun. I will inspect every tree until I find the perfect strong branch from which to hang a swing. When I feel like flying, I’ll go to that swing and imagine I can touch the sky.
I will stay in that house forever and watch the seasons pass over it. In the spring I will walk through the puddles in my rain boots and smell the new growth of green. In the summer I will tend my garden and always keep a pitcher of lemonade in the fridge. In the fall I will rake the leaves under my trees and gaze at the stars next to the warmth of a bonfire. In the winter I will light a candle in every window, and make cocoa for the children who play in the snow. I will learn the faces of that place in each season and live the annual cycle year after year after year.
One day, I will buy a house and I will make it my home.
Kristi Rolf is a sentimental psychology student from Virginia. Find her on Instagram @kristi_kreme16