Saving grace

Lockdown hit after I dropped out of university and I was in an abusive relationship. I left him in the September, re-started university in my home-town and I came out as a lesbian. I decided to download tinder to find someone to have a one night stand with, just to confirm my sexuality and make me feel as if that was the end of my era of dating men. I had a spider in my bedroom, and you had a wicked sense of humour. We spent hours upon hours on the phone the first night and within 24 hours we decided to meet for a coffee. The date lasted three days. We spent three days in your little university accommodation, and made it official as a relationship a month later. In some ways, you felt like a saving grace. We bubbled together at the end of the second lockdown, as we’d both continued to test negative, and then you went home for Christmas.

Three months. It was meant to be three weeks. I turned twenty, and the phone calls we had got longer and longer. I missed you so much.

The day you came home I flung myself into your arms. I don’t think I have ever cried so many tears of joy. We started looking for a flat together, and moved in together.

I cherish every moment we spend together. It was always meant to be you. This is the healthiest, happiest, craziest relationship I’ve ever been in and seven months in, I’m looking forward to the future. I actively want to make plans with you. You’ve been teaching me to drive.

I’m completely in love with you.