It is Saturday morning and I should be working, but I’m enjoying the cool breeze, a cup of what I call “spicy tea” (Thomas made it and brought it to me), and the birds are singing away. It’s cloudy but my mood is upbeat. Even with the mountain of work staring me in the face (which I am grateful for).

Good morning! Yes, it’s 10:40 and I’m being lazy. It’s glorious.

Boy Side came over last night late and we made a very late supper together – gnocchi and I made a fresh Roma tomato with crushed chilies and mushrooms and fresh basil. It was candle lit and I busted out a bottle of prosseco. It was delicious, as was the company and conversation.

It wasn’t one of our sexiest nights. It was cuddly and loving. We had played and enjoyed each other that morning so there wasn’t any urgency. When we finally made it to bed, he cuddled into me and fell asleep.

I was enjoying the moment, not quite as tired as he was. I listened to his soft breathing, felt the way his body touched mine – the way his hand rested just under my breasts, the way his freshly shaved legs intertwined with mine, his breath in the crook of my neck. The overwhelming feelings of love, of safety, of acceptance washed over me. I reached for my phone from the nightstand and took a picture of us, not trusting my mind to remember this feeling for me.

He had to leave super early to get home for a changing of the guard with his piglets, since his soon-to-be-ex had to head to work early. He kissed me good-bye and told me to go back to sleep. Which I totally did.

I have a partner who loves me. Shows me, says so and makes me a huge priority in his life. I asked the universe for this person 6 years ago, and it has pretty much given me just what I wanted (with some lovely extra bonuses). If you’ve been here since the beginning, you’ll know I wanted someone who was also a bit of a bastard. I’m smiling as I write this, because I totally got that too. He keeps me on my toes.

I won the life lottery. I am a very lucky girl indeed.