Postcards and Polaroids

I spent long days and nights alone in the apartment while Kellin was at band practice. He’d call throughout the day, sing me parts of their songs, tell me how each rehearsal was going, and would say how he wishes he was here. I wished he was here too.
I kept busy my working on the apartment; painting the living room, and going shopping for furniture and food. I already felt like a house wife. If only my rockstar would come home already..
I made my way into the nursery. I smiled at the pink walls, with the designs painted on with the various shades of pinks and reds and purples. I sat down, leaning against the wall, dreaming about our baby. She would be beautiful, with her daddy’s eyes for sure. She would grow up to be gorgeous if she had her daddy’s eyes. She would be gorgeous if she looked anything like her daddy. She would sing like him too, so when she grew up, she could sing her kids to sleep.
I don’t know why I tortured myself, thinking about the baby. I got up, and went into my bedroom.
I jumped at the sound of a knock on the bedroom door. I was beaming.
Kellin was home.