My gay place

I was this weekend out and about Hamburg, enjoying the best company possible and getting my feet absolutely wet.
I told my ex-flatmate last time I saw him, after taking care of his dog again, that I can't find the strength to do anything productive. I won't get into details, I still call it stage.
Ex-Flatmate took my house keys and asked me to leave 100 Euros on the table. Whilst in Hamburg he redecorated my place. My shoes are organized instead of piled on top of each other and he has organized all my cosmetics. He's been in drawers, shelves and has even cleaned the mirrors. Things look neat and taken care of. He set the floor on the terrace, I have plant pots and not those brown plastic things they come with, paintings and modern meaningless sculptures that make the place look like a trendy Amsterdam flat rather than a recycled post-student shared apartment.
Thanks, Reina! I dare not touching anything, and though it looks so much nicer, some details, like hanging floral paintings are not quite me. I still love to see you were there, I love you heaps, loads and I am totally in debt with you.
Good that you came when I wasn't there or you would have had someone on your back telling you: this is too gay.