On Broadway

Last night, Kirk and I spent some time looking over old photos. We came across a few of his (teeny-tiny, itty-bitty) apartment on Broadway back in Arlington, Mass. He lived there during the first 3 1/2 years of our relationship, while I traveled from Cambridge to Medford to Pittsburgh. It was there that we learned about each other...and fell in love.

The apartment itself wasn't much. I suppose you'd call it an attic studio, but it might not even deserve that name. There was enough room for a small sofa, a smaller refrigerator, and an even smaller stove. Except for the very center, you couldn't stand up straight. By anyone's standards, it wasn't an ideal living space:

How far we've come... Now we're in a three bedroom home with a garage that itself is bigger than that apartment. And yet: there was something so comfortable - and comforting - about being in such a small place. It forced creativity and flexibility and intimacy. Perhaps Kirk and I can thank it for the relationship we've developed over the years?

I won't lie, though. I'm grateful for a dishwasher...and a shower I can stand in.