The other day I looked across the room at Joel and felt that ache in my chest.
The good kind.
The kind that appears when a feeling is almost too big to hold.
And all I could think was,
God, I love this man.
What amazes me most is that it hasn’t even been two years.
Not two years since a Friday night message.
Not two years since a coffee that turned into something much bigger.
Not two years since this person walked into my life and quietly changed it forever.
Sometimes I try to remember what life looked like before him.
Not because I miss it.
Because it feels strange now.
Strange to imagine carrying all of this without him beside me.
The thing about Joel is that he doesn’t make life perfect.
Life is still messy.
There are worries about Luca.
Difficult situations with Lisa.
Big feelings from Tilly.
My OCD still likes to turn up uninvited and convince me the sky is falling.
There are mortgages and moving dates and work stress and all the ordinary pressures that come with being adults trying to build a life together.
But somehow he makes all of it easier.
He is the person who talks me down when I’m wobbling.
The person who sits with me when anxiety is screaming.
The person who helps me see sense when OCD has stolen it.
The person who appears with a vodka Red Bull and somehow knows exactly when I need one.
The person who carries so much himself and still finds room to carry everyone else too.
I see how hard he tries.
I see the weight he carries for Luca.
I see the worry.
I see the guilt.
I see the exhaustion.
I see the man who constantly wonders if he’s doing enough, whilst somehow giving every piece of himself to the people he loves.
And I wish he could see himself the way I do.
Because when I look at him, I don’t see failure.
I see strength.
I see kindness.
I see patience.
I see loyalty.
I see a man with the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever known.
In a few short weeks we’ll walk into a house together.
A real home.
The one we’ve spent months dreaming about, stressing about and planning for.
And whilst I’m excited about the rooms and the garden and all the possibilities that come with it, the truth is the house isn’t the thing that matters most.
It’s who I’ll be sharing it with.
Because home isn’t Everstede.
Home is Joel.
Home is knowing that whatever life throws at us next, I won’t be facing it alone.
And maybe that’s why I still get that ache in my chest when I look at him.
Because after everything life has thrown at me, after all the years spent surviving, worrying and carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders, I found the person who makes it lighter.
Not even two years.
And yet somehow I can’t remember how I ever did life without him.
Thank God I don’t have to anymore.
