4 years

4 years. 4 years of being with a boy who is also my best friend and definitely keeps me sane. Being told when I'm wrong, when i'm being ridiculous and when a dress doesn't look quite right. Someone who knows when I need a pick-me-up, have had a bad day without being told or just need a compliment as a little confidence boost before a big day. Being able to bicker, argue and defend our values and ideals, and yet still feel totally confident in what we've got.

We've had our ups and our downs, but the downs are no longer something I feel the need to defend, or question my judgements on. They're just a part of the experience, of the learning curve. They're some of the best memories, lessons, changes; ultimately of just growing up. Growing in confidence, in self-assurance and in aims and aspirations - and doing it together. 

We started at uni, as babies (him more than me!) and we were ready for anything. We drank a lot of gin,  too many sambuca shots and spent far too many nights walking home barefoot in the early hours (me, of course!), after nights out and with some of the best stories to tell.

3 years later we graduated university, grew tired of the city, and ran forward to the next bits of our lives. Very much together, but not really knowing where we would end up. We both got jobs, moved to London - deciding to live with friends and not together in first instance- and made plans. Interviews are tough, rejections are hard, and not knowing the final destination only makes them tricker; but we both got there eventually.

We acted like children, visiting farms, going on merry-go-rounds wherever we saw them, arguing over whether or not to go in the photo booths (me yes, him always no, madness!) and playing crazy golf in every county. Trips and travels, adventures and country walks, always with cows along the way if at all possible! 

London has been fun to explore, get to know better and ultimately grow up in. The Victoria line is good at 730, not so good at 8am, the Sainsburys at Clapham North station is much better than the one at Stockwell and Shoreditch on a Saturday evening gets old very quickly. The best restaurants are the ones you'd never expect, without high prices and tucked away from the main roads. A bottle of wine before dinner is always a good idea, as are after work drinks and impromptu date nights. Having a broken front door lock makes it okay to sleep at your boyfriends every night, rolling home after a party or night out without keys at 3am is slightly more questionable (that bit wasn't me, much more boy style!). 

Promotions, pay rises and house hunts. I'm excited for the London part of the story to continue. We're flat hunting and I'm house shopping and pinning as many room styles as possible until I see where we'll actually be living. I'm ready for Sunday days of chill out time, more dinner parties, a good wine rack and always going to sleep in the same bed. As soppy as it may be, I'm proud of how much we've done; what we've achieved in the last few years, both separately and together and how defined, yet flexible our plans for going forward seem to be. 

Here's to the next year.