Love isn’t always found in a bunch of roses

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How do you know if someone is ‘the one’? There are thousands of books which explore this topic, and Hollywood films which make a cliché of it. To me, there are some obvious pieces of evidence to suggest whether (or not) your blooming romance will truly blossom in all weathers.

1) Your partner should take an interest in your hobbies: your likes and your interests. My husband has read the first three chapters of every chick lit story I have ever written even though he hates reading. He knew I needed his opinion on characters and plot progression and so he did me this favour. And yet we all know that, for a man, reading chick-lit is like having your toe nails shoved in an eyelash curler. It’s pretty painful.

2) Another sure sign of ‘true love’ is that when you’re ill, your partner takes good care of you. Even if you are grumpy, drab and in your dressing gown, and so pale that you’re almost blue, your partner should  make you feel sheltered.  I’ll never forget the time when my dad once put together a message, made of carrots, on my mum’s plate when she was ill. It spelt out ‘I love you’ next to the mash potato. My mum didn’t see the love, she saw irritating carrots, ‘I didn’t ask for these!’ she cried as she pushed them away with her knife. Better luck next year, Dad.

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3) Also, your partner should love your eccentricities. Yes, we all have them! During our first month of dating, I drove my car out of the school car park with my pile of marking on the roof of my car. Half an hour later, my boyfriend (who’s now my husband) was still collecting up my muddy, wet, essays whilst I was at home, sipping tea, assuming that my year ten’s coursework was safely tucked away in my bag. Bless him!

However, the worse thing for my husband, perhaps, was when I wrote my shopping list on his new teaching contrac for the promotion he’d received only the day before. Thankfully, the pencil rubbed off well.

So, the truest reflection of my husband’s love is that he just laughs along and forgets all these fluff-head moments. He has to, otherwise if he decided to count every incident where I cock up he might realise the infinite risks he takes being married to me. And I can’t have him knowing that!

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