not that I don’t like Stig anymore. On the contrary, I’m still getting
crinkles in my stomach when I smell him. Spending so much time together is
just not what I prefer.
I became more attached to the house then to Stig himself. He invited me to
use the whole building, but gave me the attic to move in. It’s good to
have a place I can consider my own. Where I can lock the door if I would
feel the urge to do so. My attic is a good place to lie down and think
about my journey. All my desires, fascinations and everything that went
wrong. This is a good place to settle. For the first time in my life I
feel I belong somewhere. Not just anywhere. Here in Ilulissat, in
Greenland. Here, in my own attic. I am home. As if I always have been.