Life is great.
That was the thought going through my mind over and over again as I sat in my comfy chair adjacent to my freshly decorated Christmas tree, snuggled up to my fiancé in OUR house. It's ours! We are home at last, and I couldn't be happier.
With my vagabond style life, it was hard to imagine that I'd ever love being home. Being a domesticated house-fiancé (between flights) was never really something that I envisioned for myself. Now that I'm here, it's great. I wake up, and I want to clean because I live here. I want to bake in my beautiful kitchen. Ryan comes home from work, and I kiss him and ask how his day was. We are disgustingly cute and insanely normal, and you know what? I love it.
It's been a busy few days filled with unpacking, cleaning, and nervously awaiting the first dent in our hardwood floors. We've hung our pictures, decorated our 100% real living tree, and settled in to the first place I've had to call home in a long, long time. We are still waiting on the arrival of a fridge and dishwasher, so we've resorted to a lot of fast food for the time being.
Since this is our home, we can make it reflect the things that we love... namely travel and aviation. We've got pretty little airplanes and globes and knick-knacks from the over 40 countries combined that we've traveled to. Oh, and wait until you see our fridge, if it ever arrives. I've got a rather epic fridge magnet collection, and I don't care how tacky it is.
I live here. I live with my best friend. We own a home. I repeat: Life is good.
Our first photo together (after a long, long day of moving) in our new house!
