Mine.

I have space again.

Space of my own, to decorate however I wish. If I wanted to I could plaster giant fluffy pink bunnies on my walls (not that I would, of course). I can buy a bookshelf that has yarn in mind. I can put the wardrobe wherever I like. I don't have to, at any point, take into account the desires or wants of anyone other than myself.

This is a new experience.

I woke up this morning and, since I'm now on the second floor (third floor to you in North America), sunlight was streaming through my window. There is a tree with a (very annoying) bird outside that started singing at an inappropriately early hour. But right now? I love that bird. It's my bird, that sings inappropriately in my tree, outside my flat with huge windows. If I'd wanted to (or, more realistically, if I'd managed to force myself out of bed early enough) I could have had a cup of tea before work while sitting in my lounge in the sun. It's beautiful.