A space of no more than two bedrooms. Just enough to fit a couch, but oh how that couch made you feel. 3:30 a.m. and insomnia never felt so comforting. Sinking into it along with every worry. Green and yellow pillows that hold onto anxiety; that palms gripped onto when life grasped around necks. A small balcony holding laughter, holding the smallest yet most cherished. The most mysterious of all: the floor. Although not always kind, the floor held secrets and the floor never judged. Backhanding when deserved and hand-holding when needed. All coming together to create comfort in the loneliness. It was just a space, but to her it was so much more.