9.

this time nine months ago, I was very probably drunk, hungover, or planning on being drunk within a few hours. It was January. It was freezing. I drank a lot. A lot changed in about three weeks. There was Christmas celebrations surrounded by family, the New Year blow-out, lots of catch-ups and I finally got together with one of my best friends, after a good seven months of complications, drunken nights and lots of revelations.

Nine months yesterday, we were official. And by that, I mean Facebook Official. I hate that. I hate that its even a thing now, but apparently, that makes it real. Disgustingly public, but its okay. It's daft, but nine whole months for me means something unbelievable. It means a lot. An investment of time, energy and feelings. I'm not ashamed to say that at the age of 21, it is the longest, and only real relationship I've ever had. So yes, it means more than I can say.

You all are probably shrugging your shoulders thinking that nine months does not count as a milestone, ever. I've been reminded of this a few times today. I guess its more of a personal thing anyway. It doesn't matter to me what anyone else may say. I'm happy. I'm in a relationship with my best friend. He makes me laugh like no one else. I trust him with my life, and honestly, I'm not sure what I'd do without him sometimes.