I love you, apartment-whose-rent-is-almost-double-my-budget. I love your french doors, your hardwood floors, your white, white walls with bookshelves already mounted. Your wall sconces and your balcony, your tiled bathroom and corner tub; I dream of--- it's cruel for the Internet to keep throwing us together like this. Really, there is no place for either of us in each other's lives/bank accounts. Stop showing up in my searches-- when I enter a maximum rent, it's because I don't want to see you. Keep your high cielings and arched doorways for those who can fill you with more expensive things. I will find somewhere else to put my Ikea furniture, second hand trunk, and the random stuff I plan to spray paint gold...
Stuff I can't afford- from the outside, looking in.