A dream not yet come true

Young women like me have a very similar dream - to have a house of our own (whether to let or buy) that we can decorate to our heart's content. A house spells independence, it means you're living your life on your terms (and budget) and that at the end of the day you have a place to come home to, a place that is yours, that reflects your life style, that is your niche. And it's so heart-warming to see it slowing becoming a functional place and - more importantly - your place. Your furniture, your appliances, your stuff and then all the hundreds of things one has to buy to have a house up and running. To choose the plates, the glasses, the pillows, the shower curtain, the cutlery, the lamps, the duvet cover, the tea towels, etc, etc. Last night I had dinner at a friend's new place. It's only about a third done, but you can already see it's going to look absolutely amazing once she's finished decorating it. And I felt a pang of envy. And I'm ashamed to say I looked back at our place and felt sad it's not as cute and girly and tidy and pretty as I had imagined my own place would be. But then again, if I were to look closer into what my life has turned out to be, I'd see that I'm not meant to have that yet anyway. I have been abroad for only a year, I'm fairly new at my job and I barely have the means to live in a shared place with my boyfriend, let alone start thinking about having my own place and going insane with decorating it until there's nothing left of my savings. With a bit of luck and a lot of hard work in a couple years I'll hopefully be in a position to actively think about getting our own place (where we don't have to have some of the landlord's stuff mingled with ours). Then I'll go bananas with all the cute little things I mentioned in the beginning of the post. In the meantime what I do have is a roof over my head and a boyfriend that I love immensely and who keeps piling his books on the floor to free space on the shelves for my books. And what more can a girl want?