I flicked through the pages of the photo album. Every picture told a story of some part of our lives over the last ten years.

The first photo I had taken of Ben, knowing even back then that we would end up together for life, and despite a few bumps along the road, I know it still holds true.

Some snapped unawares like the one of Ben on the night of the surprise party I threw him for his thirty-forth birthday. Someone - and I still don’t know who - had caught him as he walked in the door, his face showing first surprise and then anger when he saw the room filled with people. I nearly threw that photo away when I found it not long after but then decided that the good as well as the bad parts of our lives were equally as important.

A photo snapped at Babylon on the night of the Rage launch, both of us looking silly in our Rage masks as we danced; the happiness on my face unmistakable after Ben told me he wasn’t going to Tibet.

Turning more pages I found a collection from Hunter’s birthday party, which in direct contrast with Ben’s was filled with smiling faces and a wonderful photo of Hunter blowing out the candles on the cake I had spent hours baking him.

Photos of me holding JR in my arms hours just after she was born. She was so tiny and I am still amazed when I look at her that she is part of me.

Lots of photos of our new home; each one showing the changes, until it became what it is today, a home filled with love.

Page after page with photos of Ben, looking as beautiful as the day I first saw him. I never tire of looking at these and although they all capture different looks of his, none of them capture his heart and soul which I see every time I look at him. He is the best thing that ever happened to me, he gave me everything I always wanted, a home and a family, a feeling of security but more than anything else, a feeling of being loved completely and utterly for who I am.

Pictures capture years past and will capture years ahead and no matter how important they are, the most important time is now.

I close the photo album as Ben walks into the room and drops on the sofa next to me, pulling me to him. I snuggle into his chest, his fingers playing absentmindedly with my hair and although there is no camera to capture moments like these, they are imprinted on my mind to be pulled out when needed.