A Blueprint for Us

Let me tell you something I never saw coming:

Falling head over heels

For a man who gets excited

Over spreadsheets and floor plans.

There he is, browsing houses like it’s a treasure hunt,

Debating square footage

With the intensity of someone choosing

Between “The Hobbit” and “The Lord of the Rings” for a re-read.

He talks about budgets,

Interest rates, and resale value,

And somehow, I’m swooning.

Who needs candlelight dinners

When you have someone saying,

“This neighbourhood has excellent schools!”

And don’t get me started on his sketches.

He’ll grab a notebook (his natural habitat)

And start mapping out our future.

He’ll draw little boxes and arrows,

Each one whispering, “We’re building something.”

It’s absurd, really,

To be this smitten with a man

Who insists on reading all the fine print

And then summarising it for me,

With bullet points.

But then I see those gentle eyes,

The ones that light up when he says,

“This house could have your dream kitchen,”

Or, “The yard’s perfect for a hammock.”

And I realise:

It’s not just the plans, the sketches,

Or the slightly obsessive research.

It’s the fact that every detail,

Every choice,

Is a love letter to our life together.

Without him?

Impossible.

Who else would calculate mortgage rates

With the same passion I bring to dessert menus?

So yes, I’m hopelessly in love

With this bookish, dorky, wonderful man

Who’s not just planning a house,

But designing a home

For us.