Of all of the items still outstanding on The List, this is probably one of the first that I should have already crossed off. Almost a year ago, her and I started living together. If you recall from the previous post, I had already moved in with her and things were looking good in the journey to repair the damage I was responsible for in our relationship. Our relationship grew from there and we found ourselves again, further to that, when I finally brought up the nerve to propose marriage, she said yes and we had a whirlwind of a time laying the foundation for our marriage which will carry us in to the future.
Obviously, when you are married, it is expected that a husband and wife live together, so that proposal to share our lives together also solidified our intentions to always live with each other too. I’ve always had little issue finding places to live, and by moving in with my love, that task was considered completed, however my focus has always been to find a home, and although we did live together for several months before we were married, it took some work to change our shared living arrangements in to a home that we share.
We share many of the responsibilities associated with keeping a happy and healthy home. We share the cleaning, cooking (some of it anyway), making repairs and planning maintenance and improvements, and having overall pride in in our living space. We are also very mindful that this building that keeps us protected from the elements, is more than just walls and a place for our stuff, it is a safe, nurturing place, where no matter what may happen with life, we have a place to go to that makes us feel welcome, that makes worries subside, not because of a couch, or a paint colour, but because we know that at home we can be together. This place is potential, with what we can do, and what we will do with our future years and future family.
For my entire life, I had just lived in places and kept my stuff out of the rain. Always unsure when something might happen and I would have to pack everything up again and nomadicly find another place to keep my stuff. But now, I don’t look over my shoulder, I don’t hold on to boxes in case I might need them in 6 months. I have found a place where I can feel free and sure of myself. Not the building, but the concept. Home. Home truly is where the heart is.