my floor to ceiling windows were my favorite thing about my apartment. that, and living in a high-rise with a lovely view.

saturday mornings were spent with a cup of tea and a lounge chair pulled up to the window. i would stare down at the taxis driving back and forth and the ant-sized people walking about, and feel an incredible calm being hundreds of feet above them. i was away from schedules and appointments and things that needed to be done. it was my moment to be still.

and even more, i loved the nights. i would turn out all the lights and pull the curtains wide open and let the light pour in from the buildings across the street. on nights i couldn’t sleep, i’d stare at the flickering amber and blue squares and wonder what was happening in them. young chinese families or single foreign businessmen, i debated. were they happy? in love? searching for something? maybe they watched so much tv because they were lonely. maybe they were just bored.

i know they watched a ton of tv because one night i stared really hard to see what i could make out. tv, tv, tv. some at their computers by the window, like me. a woman watering plants and a couple having a somewhat physical fight. that was frightening. and one guy was standing at his window too, seemingly doing nothing but staring. i felt an odd camaraderie with him.

i went back to bed and drifted in and out of sleep, watching the lights disappear one by one as the hours passed. a handful of them would always remain, though. i suppose that way, i never really had to feel alone.

i’ll miss that.