I Love Her Always

Unknown Speaker

Hi everyone, and welcome back to the Life Lyrics Podcast, where—well, as I always say—the stories sometimes run deeper than the songs themselves. I’m Emily, and tonight feels sort of special, doesn’t it, Paul? We’re opening up the story behind 'I Love Her Always,' which is, honestly, one of your most intimate tracks. I mean, it feels like wedding vows turned into a hymn. So, I’ve got to ask—where did this song begin for you?

Paul

Yeah, it’s a bit of a funny story, actually. The real spark came at my cousin’s wedding up in Glasgow. During the ceremony, they were reading their vows, and—Emily, I swear—there was this electricity in the room. My cousin was literally shaking, just tears everywhere, and every single person—family, strangers—everyone felt it. And I remember sort of… quietly, maybe a bit selfishly, thinking, what would I say if I had to promise forever? Like, if I could turn a vow into a song, what would it sound like? That’s where the seed for 'I Love Her Always' got planted.

Unknown Speaker

Oh, that gives me chills! There’s this lyric—'She turns the ashes into grace, finds hidden light in every place.' I keep coming back to it. It’s not just sweet; it feels sacred, almost. Were you picturing your cousin’s relationship, or were you sort of writing to your own… I dunno, future partner?

Paul

A bit of both, I think. Weddings are strange that way—you’re half watching the couple, half imagining yourself in their place. Those verses are really about honoring quiet, transformative strength. You know that kind of love you see, especially in women, where they take something broken or painful and just… turn it into hope? That’s “ashes into grace.” It’s not loud, but it’s powerful. Those are the moments I wanted to capture—the sort you see during vows, but also in all those small, private bits of real life.

Unknown Speaker

I love that, because, well—listeners might know this about me, I used to write vows for brides here in Paris, and sometimes you’d have this one line that summed up a lifetime of devotion. Doesn’t matter the language… it’s always the quiet promises that last. The way you wrote 'she knows the rain... plants her hope in fields of pain,' it’s just—gosh, it’s all there. That’s what makes love feel universal, isn’t it?

Paul

Absolutely. I think when you see someone keep showing up, turning sorrow into something beautiful… that’s the heart of it. And when I listen to those lines now, it’s not just about my cousin, or me, it’s about all those vows—like the ones you’ve helped write, like the ones listeners have said or wished to say. That’s why it matters.

Unknown Speaker

So that brings us right into the chorus and the bridge, which, honestly, I could play on repeat. 'I love her always—through every sky and shade. Not just in moments, but even when they fade.' That’s just—oh, Paul—it’s the kind of thing you want someone to say in church, but also, like, every random Tuesday when life’s a mess. What makes some love stay, do you think, when a lot can just… drift away?

Paul

Yeah, it’s something I’ve thought about a lot. You know that line in the bridge, 'It mends, it bends, it never ends.' I kept coming back to that. Because real love isn’t static—it sort of stretches, takes bruises, but it doesn’t snap. Sometimes spoken vows are these big, poetic moments, but—maybe the harder ones are the little ones you just live out each day, quietly, even when no one’s watching. The lines, 'she holds the hurt, then lets it go,' that’s where the real endurance is.

Unknown Speaker

Yes, exactly. I feel like—oh, I’m going to gush—there’s this difference between promising love out loud and living that promise over and over, even after the confetti’s swept up. When you sing, 'not just when it’s easy, but when there’s more to lose,' that’s honestly the part that made me tear up. I know we talked about hope and heartbreak in other episodes, but this feels like… resilience in motion?

Paul

Yeah, yeah, you’re spot on. And—okay, I might get a bit nerdy here—but my science brain sees it like, um, resilience is almost a property, like elasticity or gravity. Love, if it matters, adapts like that. It grounds you, but it also sorta bends, grows, and stretches with you. There’s a gravity to it—a force that keeps you pulled together even when things want to pull you apart. That’s the living vow. It changes, but it doesn’t fall apart.

Unknown Speaker

That’s not nerdy at all! Actually, I love how you weave that science into love songs, it kind of makes the whole thing feel—I dunno—truer? I think of all the letters I’ve helped couples write, the most powerful ones are almost never flashy; they have that quiet, daily intensity. Like the song says, 'She is the stillness in my days.' That line just… oh! It floors me. It’s the everyday love that keeps you warm, especially when the world’s a bit cold, if that makes sense.

Paul

Honestly, I couldn’t agree more. I always wanted this to be about love that lasts through all of it—the mundane, the storms, and those small, silent acts. Not the kind that burns out, but the kind that bends and comes back stronger. Like, real vows aren’t once-in-a-lifetime; they’re every day. That’s what I was trying to get at. I hope it came through, anyway.

Unknown Speaker

Oh, it absolutely comes through. And I sort of want to talk about what happened after the song came out. Because, Paul, you got a message that… I mean, it still gives me goosebumps—the one from Antony, right?

Paul

Yeah, I’ll never forget that DM. A few days after 'I Love Her Always' was released, this listener—Antony, from England—reached out on Instagram. He’d just lost his partner. He wrote that the lyrics felt like I was, I don’t know, speaking about his own wife. When someone tells you your words are their memory now… It just hits different. All the late nights, all those doubts, suddenly they felt worth it, because the song became part of his story, not just mine.

Unknown Speaker

That’s so moving. Like—wow. I actually remember when you first told me about Antony, and I got a bit teary. It’s like the vow you wrote for someone in your imagination travelled all the way across countries and became his comfort, his hymn. That’s music, right? It transforms personal heartbreaks into something we all can hold, together.

Paul

Exactly. And you know, Antony isn’t the only one. After releasing the track, I heard from a few others—some wrote in about weddings, others about partners they’d lost, or love that’s survived distance. I think that’s what I cherish most—the song stopped being just a song. It turned into a sort of universal vow for anyone who’s loved deeply, or suffered loss, or promised always. It just belongs to everyone now, not just me, and I’m—well, I’m grateful for that.

Unknown Speaker

It’s such a gift. I feel like, after all the episodes we’ve done—about heartbreak, hope, belonging, all those little echoes of love and pain—this one kind of wraps them all together. From a wedding in Glasgow, to a message from Antony, to every listener who’s carried love a little further… That’s real legacy, Paul. That’s why we do this.

Paul

Thanks, Emily. Really—I wrote this song as a kind of vow for the love I hoped to find. But seeing it turn into an anthem for anyone holding on to love, or memory, or hope… it means the world. So, to Antony and everyone out there leaning into forever, this episode’s for you.

Unknown Speaker

And to all our listeners—if you’ve ever whispered a promise or held on to love, this one’s for you too. Keep loving bravely, and reach out if a lyric ever feels like your own story. We love reading them, honestly. Paul, thank you for being so honest, and for letting us into your vows tonight.

Paul

Thank you, Emily, and thanks to everyone listening. We’ll be back soon with more stories—the kind that make music feel like home. Goodnight, Emily.

Unknown Speaker

Goodnight, Paul. And goodbye, everyone—we’ll see you next time.