We got it. We actually got it. Signing our names was one of the longest moments of my life. I could see the tears building in his eyes as we pulled into the driveway. He’s had such a hard life, the joy made each room brighter than the one before it as we made our way slowly through the unfamiliar house. He caressed every light switch, opened every cabinet, claimed every closet, and ran his finger down every panel of all the blinds in the place. His face lit up when he felt the water warm his hand under every faucet. I’ll never forget those face crinkles.

On our very first date, he had made it clear that his childhood was different from most. He had never known a stable home, physically or emotionally. That led to an alcohol addiction. At the time he was in therapy and had been sober for a year. The first long term goal he had set in his second session was to buy a house. Not an apartment, not a condo, not a townhouse, or a mobile home. An actual house. A backyard. A basement. A Porch. A place to grow old. He wanted a future.

We didn’t have a honeymoon phase, where you spend every waking second you can together. Every once-a-month date, every midnight phone call, every shortened sunrise cuddle session has led to this.

But it’s more than that.

Every night I spent alone in my apartment while he stayed late at work has led to this.

Every morning he moaned and groaned but still rolled out of bed has led to this.

Every “little gift” for each holiday instead of dipping into his savings has led to this.

I am not letting his hard work go unnoticed. We did this together and I know he wants me here more than anything, but he would have done this with or without me and the dedication and focus is what I love about him.

After the initial walk through we landed back in the empty living room and collapsed together on the carpet. I rolled into his arms and dug my face deep into his chest. We both relaxed so hard I could feel his inner child healing. With every exhale, I heard his heart whisper, “finally”. We crossed a finish line.

We picked ourselves up and began walking through different parts of the house separately. After a few minutes I heard my name from a room at the end of the hall. As I walked through the threshold, my attention was pulled toward the floor. There he was, on one knee, with a ring outstretched toward me.

“From the moment I met you, you became goal number two.”

And here we find, another starting line.