There's been some huge triumphs this year; driving, turning 18, obtaining a tattoo, going it alone.
Then there's the smaller triumphs. Which, in actual fact, probably mean so much more to me than everything else combined.
Those small moments. Five minutes of laughing, two minutes of crying, a night of drinking and a morning of smoking. Those significant moments. Well, they've been grand.
It's the tiny things. Like waking up with a house full of friends, all carrying foggy heads. Stumbling outside - using energy from the previous night's beers and baguette - with coffee and toast. I'm sure we considered ourselves highly sophisticated and continental.
The truth is, none of the big triumphs mean half as much as those nights.
I remember every cheesy song, every out of tune power ballad, every hour spent driving through town, and every hour of sleep I lost.
We were silly with excitement. Everything felt new and fun. It was strange and so were we, but it wasn't threatening.
2014 has been home. We've had and felt it all.
It's that feeling you get when you try something for the first time, it's never quite what you expect but it evolves in to an adventure all the same.
There was no one in this adventure, bubble, sanctuary but us. Half-drunk with the prospect of things to come and completely engulfed in each other's love.
We started with a bang and we'll go out just the same. We're bright, and ready for a storm.