It probably says an awful lot about our relationship that several of the songs I associate with my husband come from the film American Pie. I’m glad to say no socks or apple pies were damaged in the forming of our relationship, it is just the songs that make me think of Kev. 


There is one in particular that has spoken to me from the first time I heard it, sat in a Cinema,holding Kev’s hand on one of the first times we dated. 

‘It feels like home to me, feels like I’m all the way back where I belong.’

Kev has always made me feel like that. I spend time away from him quite regularly. We live our own separate lives quite happily but whenever I get back to his embrace I know I am home. It’s a warmth, a comfort, a familiarness. It’s the way we finish each other’s sentences, the way he laughs at my quips that I throw out in response to things on the telly, how he understands the way I leap from one topic of conversation to another which is only vaguely connected and back again and how he will just do everything for me when I am incapable of doing anything at all. 


I’m a bit shit at expressing my emotions sometimes. I’m really, really bad at letting other people help me. Add to this my crazy anxiety about everything and you often end up with a sulky, snappy V. Kev knows when to give me space. He knows when to suggest ‘maybe we shouldn’t go to X or visit Y.’ or ‘we can do that thing next week, don’t need to do it now’ and very often he just does things to take the load off without even realising it. 


Thing is, Kev is disabled. I am his carer and so a lot of the time I’m helping him. I don’t mind, at all, it’s part of me loving him, but it can pull on both of us, the way we have these roles. He is beholden to me, I am responsible for him. It can be difficult. I know there’s times he wishes he could do more and I know there are times I just don’t want to be the responsible one any more. 


But that is nothing to do with Kev. I love him, I need him, he is my comfort and safe space. And I must remember to keep reminding him of that. He is not a burden. I am never frustrated with him but I can be frustrated at my own poor health and how I can’t look after him as thoroughly  as I want to. 


And I know there are times when he feels like a burden, when he wishes he could do more. I know he has so many barriers to break through to do even the smallest things. So when he does something for me, however small it may seem, I appreciate it all the more. Because I know the effort he’s gone to for me. 


More than any place in my life, more than anyone else, Kev feels like home. 


He knows me and he loves me and I know him and I love him and together we are home.