Given this is my blog, I get to talk unashamedly about me, and how I feel, so there.

Love is a funny one, or the complete opposite, a hurtful one, something that devours your heart, mind, body. I’ve had plenty of heart ache, but this post is more about the good stuff.

It’s not a post to rub it in the face of single people, most of the single people I know are happily single, but those that aren’t occasionally can feel envious for something they don’t have. The painted image on social media, the hand holding and the gushing, the thoughtful gifts and candid selfies.

However, the best things about love for me, are the things that only we share, everyone can have hugs, take selfies and share a bed but it’s the nuances that make us, and they’re never something to be jealous of because they’re dictated by our personality.

For me it’s the eye rolls I deliver every time he sheepishly tries my food in a restaurant when he know I wont try his because I don’t like it

It’s the WhatsApp message every morning to make sure I got into work okay

The silly voices and the inside jokes

It’s the desperate need to know what he thinks of a book or film I’ve recommended and the conversation that proceeds

It’s the moments he calls me chatty Cathy in bed when he’s trying to get to sleep but still wants to hear what I have to say.

It’s the in-between bits, the bits I can’t get with anyone else.

That’s what love is for me, the bits that are boring from the outside looking in, the bits you can only share with that person because it’s been curated by your time together, it’s friendship.