An open letter to Ryan Gosling

This morning I read an interview with Ryan Gosling in the Guardian and I feel I must address some of what he talks about if he is to ever have hope of marrying me. Which of course he does. Sub-conciously. On some deep level.

Now our Ryan shocked me with his pessimism about love. Clearly he wasn't paying attention to the lines he uttered in The Notebook, because the speech about her being a pain in the arse 99 percent of the time, that arguing is what they do, that it's going to be really hard work and they will have to work at it every day but he doesn't care because he wants all of her for the rest of his life, is all anyone needs to know about love. Buck up Ryan, you hold on your shoulders the hopes and dreams of a whole generation of women. Do not back out now.

So to read this morning, and I qoute; "The knight slays the dragon and then lives happily ever after with the princess in the castle," he says, "but when they've moved in together, they have to share a bathroom. How do you keep love alive in a domestic situation? What is it about that that dismantles love?" Well let's just say, after Noah's magic words this came as a shock. And I had only just finished watching him say those words. Again. What is it about men that makes this part of love so hard to comprehend? Love is hard, hard work. It needs looking after every day. It's about meeting someone and knowing that you cannot get enough of them and then after the first flush of romance has passed realising that in nearly every way they piss you off and fail and wind you up and deciding that in spite of this you cannot wait to see them again. It's about realising that you haven't got a clue how to love this person the way they need you to. About realising they haven't got a clue how to love you. Realising that no one has a clue how to love anyone but themselves because no two people are the same or need the same thing. I need cuddles and A LOT of communication. My ex needed space and silence. The point is, real, true, great love is about despite all the differences and the impossibilities you are prepared to spend the rest of your life learning how to love them the way they need. And all you ask in return is that they do the same thing. You will probably never figure it out. Even if you make it through sixty years...a rare thing today. But you keep trying. But if you're not both prepared to do it, it will never work. God I loved my rows. They used to make me sick with nerves that I could possibly lose him because in my heart of hearts I knew he wasn't a long termer. He was always going to take the easy route which meant the exit. But I loved how they challenged me and used to make me think outside of my own box. I don't like the easy route, hence the reason I am still in Paris. If you are not challenged by your partner, if you learn nothing new from them, then what is the point? And if the challenge is that they cannot put the lid on the toothpaste and they never ever hang up their towel it's no less valid than the challenge of learning how to keep your mouth shut when someone needs you to. That's love. It's not romance and flowers and candles and great sex. Well it is those things but real love is putting up with the things that piss you off more than anything in the world. You do it naturally with your Mum and your sister. God when my Granddad died the things I instantly missed, the things that make me want to cry with longing now were not his good bits. I miss his moaning more than anything in the world. God I even miss his racist comments and the delight he took in trying to wind me and my sister up with them. If he was to come back for a day it is those parts I would want. I would want to see him sat in his chair moaning about how the world is terrible and he hates life. Because that was unique to him. I know no one else as happily miserable in his misery as my Granddad was. Why do we expect the love we have with our partners to be made up of anything other than this stuff? The lasting love of our parents is so tied up with faults and errors and clashes and it's the most important of them all. It sets us on our way.

So Mr Gosling, don't despair about how after the Dragon comes the bathroom because after the bathroom comes understanding so deep that no amount of flowers and poems can compete. And you best remember it when we are married and throwing frying pans at each other across the kitchen. Which is an inevitable feature of any marriage to me. However, I would still like flowers and my favourites are white roses with a pink edge. Just so you know...