Beautiful house... but mine's better

I had told you about a new friend i made recently. We spent a really really nice day together yesterday.
I bought myself a cell phone, drank coffee at Starbucks (there are like loads of outlets here), walked around the humungous City Centre Mall, got two grams of free gold with the cellphone, realised two grams of gold was like golden foil that chocolates are wrapped in which you can twist and turn any way you want, had an amazing amazing amazing dish for lunch the name of which I can't remember, at an awesome awesome awesome restaurant the name of which i can't remember, watched Mr. And Mrs. Smith, laughed our asses off when Brad Pitt answeres the question how long have you been married for with, "Five-six years," and
"Including weekends?" to the question how many times have you had sex this week.
She took me grocery shopping with her. Well, I have never ever done grocery shopping in my life. But like I have learnt to use the washing machine, and learnt how to make (burnt) daal, I'll learn how to shop for grocery too.
I was picking up my chocolates, and looking around for prawn-flavoured chips (haven't had those in a long time) when she said, "Could you just go see if you can find a packet of chillies there?"
Damnit. But how hard could finding chillies be?
I found it, picked it up and very casually, as if I was a grocery store owner before I turned writer, walked up to her with the humungous packet of chillies. Would have probably lasted a year.
She took me then to the same counter and showed me a packet of smaller chillies.
"But they're red in colour," I said.
"Toh chalega," she shrugged
Man, but why are these green chilly shaped things red in colour? Really, why? What's the difference? Is there any?
Screw it, they're just chillies anyway.
We entered her house, and wohooohooohooohoooooooo. WOW. I was breathless.
Sexy wooden doors, huge. Beige soft wall to walla carpeting. Off-white walls.
I won't deny. For a second I thought I'd throw her the idea of me shifting in with her. She might have said no (politely though or even passed it off as a joke), but what the heck, it was worth a try.
She cooked Rajma Chaawal (cooked awesomely), while I paced the house thinking this is so unfair. Even I want a house like this.
So much space, brilliantly decorated, ancient candle stand on the dining table, candles in the bathroom, wooden doors all around... oh man, my heart flipped there.
I'll tell you somein about her.
She doesn't ask questions. I mean, she isn't curious to know about the person sitting with her or talking to her.
That I think is the negative part about us. I am a terrible listener. Super bad at it. I just can't focus when someone else is talking about themselves. But I somehow manage to seem like I am interested. I am, but a little bit at a time. If the story stretches too long, I start yawning with my mouth closed.
Whereas I am concerned, I love talking about me. I can go on and on without taking a break.
I think we both are the same when it comes to this. She's a terrible listener (i assure you that) and so am I.
So most of the evening, in her house, we stayed quiet. Na-aa, it wasn't that uncomfortable. It was fine. We're getting better as we speak more often. getting more and more comfortable with each other just like the way it happens. Very normal.
I loved that house. Living in a house like that... you'd definitely wanna come back home to it every night. And be so proud to invite people over...
I left her place at about 10, I was a little depressed. I told her quite a number of times today that she should put some more colour in her house. Make it more lively, and happy. I don't think she took that too well.
Anyway, I got (to my) home after a walk along the sea. Didn't switch the light on, and walked straight to my room.
I smiled when I got in. All my sadness, my loneliness (about whatever) vanished.
The small room missed me. My bedsheet, crumbled on the bed, told me that. My soft pillows, one tilted on the head and the other on the feet-side, smelt of me. My room smelt of me.
The TV (which still stands there without a cable connection) was on. Why was it on? Because I hate tube light, so I usually only use the light coming out from the TV. Without cable though, it's just a blank blue screen. But the light's good.
My cupboard is just beside the TV. It's brand new. Dark, alomost plum-coloured wood. I open it, and it smells of me.
My small little library beside the cupboard has a bible, a few copies of my own books, a few CDs, some porn collection (lol), and some change (i am collecting all the coins here hoping that probably after a few years they'd be likea huge amount of Riyals) in a poylthene bag.
I love my house.
No matter how much you like someone else's house, no matter how amazing it is, it's not yours. You can't get the same feeling you get when you are in your own.
I felt complete.
Now all I need is an orange couch, a small tiny firdge, a small music system, a cable connection, orange curtains, a sexy wooden breakfast table... and... mmm... of yeah, the TV chair (the one Chandler and Joey use in their apartment in Friends). That's it.
And some nice paintings.
And Noor's pictures all over. All over. Only her. Just her.
That's my house.
Mine and hers.