H is for Home (or lack there of)

When I moved into my apartment last month, I was so excited. Glad to finally have my own space again, my own home. Somewhere that I simply loved, was proud of. The apartment is everything I wanted in on. Counter space in a kitchen (not even a kitchenette, but an actual kitchen), a good sized bedroom, and a bigger living room. The bathroom is pretty big, so far as bathrooms go. I have 4 closets.

But after living there for a month, unpacking, settling, it still doesn't feel like "home" to me. My apartment in Radford last year felt like home. I don't know what I'm doing differently. Is it because we aren't totally settled yet? Because our pictures aren't up on the walls? Is it because I haven't spent enough time there to really let it grow on me? Is it because when I am there, Jeffrey and I never sit down and do stuff together, it's always one of us or the other doing stuff? Is it because my upstairs neighbor is super-loud so I hear everything going on in their life, and it doesn't feel private, like my own corner?

I don't know what it is. I don't know why my home isn't... homey. I want it. I want to sit on my couch and feel totally at home there. Totally comfortable. I just don't. I wonder why, I think about how to fix it. We planned on living in this apartment for two years. It's the perfect location. 5 different school DISTRICTS within a one hour commute, for when Jeffrey gets his teachers certification, it's near-enough the highway that we can get on it easily, but far enough that we aren't listening to it. It's right near my college. Right near the mall. Right near several grocery stores. Everything is right there. It's perfect.... but it's not. And I don't know why. and it bothers me.