I appear to be on the precipice of a situation in which I find myself willingly falling towards; gravity has no power over me, I am in fact choosing to meet the ground face on – teeth first.

What the hell am I talking about?

You know when you meet someone amazing? Someone who completes you when you already feel whole? Someone who inspires you enough to end all sentences with a question mark, simply because using a full stop would mean putting a premature end to describing their awesomeness?

I’ve found that person in the most unexpected of places.

In between the bookshelves at work; with messy brown hair and glasses so officiously large, if they were to carry a wand around with them, they’d very well be mistaken for Harry Potter. Or a bit of twat.

No, I haven’t just discovered the literary delights of a certain JK Rowling. I did in fact discover those many years ago.

Instead, I have found something, or rather, someone, who I have decided is worth giving up my job for and eloping to Canada with. I won’t mention at this point that them kissing the place just behind my ear would induce me to act in similar, irrational ways. That’s just not important.

And yes, it’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever agreed to do (except for maybe that perm I had about six years ago) but I know it’s the right thing to do, because even when the fear of giving up a perfectly reasonable job eats away at me like a bout of terminal cancer, I know that I’ll be okay.

I know that whatever absurd, embarrassing, I’m-going-to-die-of-shame moments that will undoubtedly come my way in the following weeks, I know they will be shared in the best possible company.

I know that when I find myself back in London, jobless and with no money having spent it all gallivanting around Northern America with nothing but someone else’s clothes on my back – I know it will all be okay.

And even if it won’t be, I’m sure I’ll have a hell of time getting to that point of: Where did it all go wrong?

My only concern will be, when can we do it again?