First couple of months were frustrating. In that time (and the second half of 2017), we'd put offers in on houses but kept getting outbidded. Finally in March we had an offer accepted on a house we loved and all of our dreams came true. Over the moon. The next few months were a ballache dealing with surveyors, the bank and estate agents. Fuck doing that again anytime soon. Got our keys on June 22nd. Happiest day of our lives.
In early July, we hopped on a plane to Spain with my girlfriends family for a week and had a great old time. July 12th, I got home from work and was told my little brother's body had been found in his flat the night before. He'd hung himself. He'd only turned 26 a few weeks beforehand. Can't really look back at the holiday or getting our house keys with any fondness as I'll always associate it with my brothers suicide.
Been in an absolute daze since July tbh. Worst year of my life, and I never thought I'd say that about the same year in which we bought a house.
Dogshit. On a positive note, 2019 can only be better, can't it?
I really fucking miss you Rob.