Some people have told me that “settling down young” is a complete waste of my youth, that I won’t be able to take advantage of all the wonderful things life has to offer because I’m in a long-term, committed relationship. I would like to take a minute to tell those people that they are wrong. What they fail to see is that, while I’m experiencing life, I’ll have my favorite person at my side throughout the entire journey. I’m not losing anything by settling down so young, but instead, I’ve gained the ability to walk hand in hand with the person who knows me best so early in my life.

He has seen all parts of me—the good, the bad, and the ugly. He knows how to handle my attitude and encourage me when I’m feeling defeated. He knows how to push my buttons and, just as quickly, how to make me smile.

Finding my other half so young has been the biggest blessing of my life. He pushes me towards my dreams and helps me fight life’s tough battles. In my eyes, having him by my side makes me the luckiest girl in the world.

Meeting him at 11, living with him at 18 and getting our first puppy together at 19, shows that love knows no timeline. We’re still moving at a reasonable pace (I mean, I have known him for practically ten years), we’re just doing it at a younger age.

On March 18, 2016, my world came crashing down. I had spent almost every available minute the week prior at Sarasota Memorial Hospital while they ran test after test on my grandfather who suffered from two types of cancer. I was in the waiting room, separated from him by only 28 steps when the doctor called out a “Code Blue."

We saw doctor after doctor come rushing through the elevator and into the room where my Poppi was being operated on, and I prayed to God every single second up until the head nurse came out of the operating room.

Hearing the words that the man who raised me had left this Earth to meet God left a gaping, irreparable hole in my heart. My boyfriend drove (technically, he sped) two hours as soon as he got news of what happened to be with my family and me. He didn’t leave my side.

He bought me tissues with aloe and lots of chocolate. He held me while I cried. He let me squeeze his hand during the entire funeral service and stood with me while our family and friends gave their condolences.

Even now, when I break down over the loss, he holds me and kisses my forehead and tells me how much he loves me. We may be young, but without him helping me stay strong, I would be nothing more than a gaping, irreparable hole of a person to match my wounded heart.

On May 5, 2015, I stood in front of a judge and legally changed my last name to “Wallace.” Why is this so important? Well, my mother's surname is Wallace, and the Wallace family is the only family (with a few exceptions) I’ve ever known.

In my heart, I knew I was just as much part of my family as everyone else, but seeing it there on paper and officially having it as my last name made that day one of the best of my life. He woke up early, dressed nicely and was so visibly happy to be part of the experience. My family went to Peach’s to celebrate the occasion, and he kept telling me how elated he was that I was closing one chapter to open a new one. It was cleansing and therapeutic and having him bear witness only made it that much more special.

You see, I won’t have to one day recount to my husband what I went through with losing my Poppi: how I felt, how I could barely eat, how devastated I was. I won't have to explain why changing my name was so monumental or try to describe the look of joy on my mom’s face after the judge granted my request. I won’t have to tell him my life’s story because the man I love has been a main character in the plot that is my life for such a long time—he was there for it all.

We both gained a second family in being together, and how lucky does that make me? I don’t just have one support system to help me navigate through my early twenties, but two! We’re working our way through school together, motivating and encouraging each other, as the classes get harder and the workload becomes more rigorous. We share a house and a puppy.

I already know that my forever person doesn’t put his dirty clothes in the hamper (he prefers to put them right next to it instead) and that he pretends to swing a golf club every chance he gets (most of the time not even realizing he’s doing it). He already knows that if we’re in the car together, I’m going to be singing along to every song I know and that I love to drink ginger ale when I don’t feel well.

For me, the greatest gift is getting to experience more with him by my side. I love the fact that he knows firsthand how awkward I looked with braces and how my freshman homecoming went. I love the fact that we will always be able to turn to each other without judgment and that we can be completely honest with one another, because that's how it's always been.

I love that he can make me mad as anything and two seconds later have me laughing at whatever goofy thing he’s said or done. I love that I don’t have to sit around wondering what the love of my life looks like, sounds like, or acts like, because I already know. He’s already standing right in front of me.

It’s going to be that much more amazing because I’ll have seen him when he was all blue eyes and freckles on the school bus in middle school and when he’s old and gray in the nursing home. I am lucky to have found this kind of love so young, because I get to go through life with the man who tells me I’m beautiful when I ugly cry and laughs at my terrible dad jokes. I get more time on this Earth with him because we are so young and have so much time to explore this world together, and it really doesn't get much better than that.