Sometimes I think about Dan and Phil and the home they made together. They’ve lived with each other for quite a while now, did the big move from Manchester to London with very little money but a very big amount of trust on the other. They took a lot of risks together, some failing, some succeeding. The results varied from time to time. But through all those risks, there was always this one constant. And that constant is they had each other for better or for worse. It’s really amazing how they’ve managed to get this far together, the patience it must’ve taken, how many fights they had to pause so that they wouldn’t say things they didn’t mean while they’re angry. They’ve lived together for years, but no one is leaving, because they know that what they have is bigger than a silly little fight. What they have is special. Phil probably knows what Dan’s favorite mug is, and fills it up with tea the moment he senses that Dan is feeling stressed. Dan must know what Phil’s favorite shirt is, and he must compliment him whenever he wears it, just to see Phil smile. They know every little quirk of the other, they have each other’s mannerisms memorized. They know what terrifies the other the most, but they don’t use it against them, even though they have the power to do so. Dan and Phil’s friendship is really something, isn’t it? It’s as if you could put them in a broken down apartment, with creaky floorboards and a leaky faucet, and nothing would change between them. No matter where they are, just as long as they’re together, they are home. Dan and Phil found their home in each other.