It's you again.

Maybe she's old-fashioned,  but she'd say she was traditional. 

I never was one of those little girls who dreamt about being rescued and marrying their sweetheart. Never. Not once. I didn't have a string of on-off romances through my teens, a whirlwind love affair at any point, and yet something in me changed. I can't even recall when I first felt like this, but I can just say that now, at the age of 21, I'm very much a romantic. 

There was a time I'd scoff at my friends receiving cheesy, gushing Valentine's Day cards and teddies  holding heart-shaped cushions. When I'd see a couple kissing in the street and avert my eyes, sighing. I'd come to associate romance with a sickly feeling in the back of my throat, a fakeness to it, a childishness. And then, I met someone. 

I've never ever imagined a future with anyone until I met you. I'd never even entertained a marriage, never mind anything more than that. Overtime, I've become someone my old self wouldn't even recognise, and yet I welcome the changes. I'm a happier person because of you. The romantic side of me has flourished, and not before time. You're the person I now cannot picture my life without. You're part of me, and I'll walk over broken glass before I let you go. 

You've changed me, and I welcome those changes. I'm a happier, healthier person. You've made me proud to be who I really am. The romantic side of me is truly alight. Because, why not?! 

There's nothing better than flowers just because they're pretty and he thought she'd like them. A little surprise is cute and thoughtful, and that beats expense hands down. Sometimes, all she want is for him to wake her up and say "I'm taking you out for breakfast" just for the hell of it. She sees a future with him, as he holds the door open for her, grabs the bill, does the chivalrous thing extremely well when he can. She has a lot of admiration for a man who isn't afraid to compliment his girl and show her off. She's always waiting to be whisked off her feet at a moments notice, even if that's for a coffee and some cake. She'll hold your hand like her life depends upon it, smile at you like you're her entire world, and wake up every morning with you dancing in her thoughts. She already knows she will hold on to you before she ever says it aloud. She will make you work for it. She will test you. She will push you to your limits if she thinks you may be the one for her. She'll tell you what she wants, what she loves and what she hates. She'll tell you what she expects from you, even if she never has to say it out loud. She wants to be wooed, she wants to be spoiled, but most of all, she wants to feel loved. 

When I realised.

My phone buzzes throughout my seminar as I carefully make plans from beneath the safety of my desk, as to not look rude or ignorant. We're having a seminar on Eastenders, and how to write for a brief. It drags knowing I've got somewhere to be.

By the time four o'clock strikes, I've already slipped my arms into my coat, closed my notebook and have my bag over my shoulder. It's time to go. 

As I brace the miserable northern weather, thoughts of you dance around in my head. I'll be seeing you soon. I zip my coat up around my neck, shivering, and occasionally glance down at my phone gripped firmly in my hand. It's too cold to text you back just yet. I'll just see you soon. 

Walking through the door of the pub, I realise a cheeky grin has found it's way to my face, and my eyes feel bright and happy. There's an excited feeling in my chest and a new found positivity in my step. And then, I catch sight of you sat at a table in front of me. Your arms folded, your shirt rolled up around your elbows. Your collar unbuttoned slightly and your hair all fuzzy from the rain. You don't see me at first, and yet I watch you, as your eyes are focused down at your phone in yours hands. For a second or two I just study you. Your muscular arms that make me feel like i'm in the safest place in the world when they're wrapped around me. Those eyes I just get lost in every time they meet mine. And then I do. You look up at me and grin genuinely like I've always dreamed of. I never thought anyone could look at me like that. As I walk towards the table and pull out the chair opposite you, I can't suppress my grin. 

'Hello you.' 

And our Cheshire Cat sized grins match up. I sat across the table from you today, and I've never been more sure in my life; there was nowhere else in the world I'd rather have been. 

Luke.

I want someone to wrap their arms around me when I say "no honestly, I'm fine" even though I'm not. I want someone to kiss my forehead when they hold me and never ever want to let me go. I want someone who finishes my sentences, giggles with me and makes me a happier version of myself. Who playfully shouts at me and is the only one I'd ever let tickle me and not punch in the face. I want someone who loves and appreciates me and never makes me feel anything less than worthy. 

And I have all that with you. 

So indecisive, so adamant.

You don't mind me singing badly to Robbie William's greatest hits, or the fact I'm a tad neurotic and very, VERY high maintenance. The fact I can and do, on many occasions, quote Friends in real life situations. My caffeine addiction you seem to accept thoroughly. The way I can't walk past a mirror without checking my hair or touching up my make-up. Your willingness to let me get drunk and show you up, and yet you still pick me up when I fall flat on my face giggling. stop smiling Lukas. The days I don't want to speak, or get out of bed, or smile, and you let me do that if that's what I want. My stupid irrational shopping habits, my ambitious dreams, and my OCD tendencies. Knowing when to leave me alone, and fully understanding that sometimes, I just need to cry and have a massive hug. Knowing I gorge on stupid telly and will end up having an emotional breakdown every time something remotely sad happens in any programme whatsoever. [not that I ever do this, obviously.] You accept me drunk dialing you at 2am, and 3, and five. The fact it takes me about six hours to get ready for a night out. With a face full of make up, or totally bare. Knowing that I will go out every weekend, and moan about my hangover over and over until I can't take it any more. Staying up stupidly late with me because I just can't sleep. Coping with my sarcastic, bitter slurs at times, and banishing all doubts from my mind when I'm feeling really low. Telling me I look amazing, when I feel shit, holding my hand when I'm scared and encouraging me when I'm unsure of something. You are the reason my smile hasn't vanished in 78 days solid. The reason that 2014 is turning out to be one of the best, ever. The reason I wake up smiling and go to bed feeling content.

The simple truth.

The plain facts stand at this. You're the only person I'd answer my phone to at four in the morning and talk about anything and everything even though you're probably drunk. You make me laugh and think the world of me and things are just so much better when you're around. You have a unique ability to make me grin even at the smallest of things and I can't even explain why. Part of me is shy around you, and yet, you probably know me better than most people, and I love that. It means a hell of a lot that you know me, and don't want to run a mile. Christ, I want to run a mile from myself sometimes. You're someone I don't want to see walk out of my life. If I'm being totally and completely honest, you're one of very few people that I'd hold on tight to. I trust you, I love the way you make me smile, and the prospect of being without you is just grim. I find myself going red every time your name is mentioned, my stomach flutters and my tongue gets tied. I feel about fifteen again sometimes, it's funny. I'm stupidly insecure at times, and it's hard for me not to be, but I'm trying very hard. Secretly, or perhaps not so secretly now, I'm terrified. Terrified of messing up. Being the usual screw-up I always am. Especially when I know you think so much of me, I'm not sure I can live up to it. I mean, I hope I can. I want to. Who knew I'd be back here, and yet further forward than I've ever been. Silly little me is ready to take a risk, because if it pays off, it will be pretty incredible. 

You.

You're the person I want to speak to at three in the morning because of a dream I've just had. The one whose name makes me smile as soon as I hear it. The only person I'd want to be drinking whiskey with in the middle of the night, exchanging random facts and sharing giggles. The one person who always puts a smile on my face. The one with the occasionally-altering shadow, but, still, you're there. You're the one that's there to hold my hand, or my hair back when I've drank too much. The one who is forever texting me, reads my blog and never fails to be there when I need you. The person I see in the mirror, the supermarket or in my imagination. Who is this person?

This person alters. They are in many places at once, and take on many different forms. My best friends, my wavering love-interests, my family, my awkward friends, my acquaintances, every single person who has had an impact on my life. I love you all. I need you all, and you all, in some way, I'd like to think, need me too.

Even the people who put me down or are waiting for me to screw up, I thank you. (slightly cliché  to thank "the haters") but that's not what this is. This is, merely, saying thank you, to everyone who has been in my life, whether it be for the long-haul, or just fleetingly, you all, I think, helped me to get to where, and who I am today. Maybe I do wish there are certain people I'd never met, become friends with, or even just had the unfortunate luck of bumping into, but in the long run, I truly am beginning to believe, even the bad times, give me a reason to smile. Because they are in the past, and everyone who put me down, needs to be shown, it was only temporary. I have a reason to smile, and the funny thing is, it's not because of, nor ever will it be, you. Your words don't sting like they used to.