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Foot popDo you remember in the ‘Princess Diaries’ when Mia says that her ideal kiss would result in a foot pop? She went on to explain that in old movies whenever a girl was ‘seriously kissed’ their foot would pop up behind her. Mia believed the foot pop kiss was the most romantic kiss. For Mia, the foot pop was the romantic cherry on the true love cupcake. For me it was something else.

Quick quiz: what does ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’, ‘Four Weddings and A Funeral’ and ‘The Lion King’ have in common?

The Answer: A smooch in the rain.

My teenage self could have told you with confidence that the most romantic kiss in the world is a kiss in the pouring rain. You would both be getting absolutely drenched but you wouldn’t care, you would just laugh and hold one another in a long embrace and kiss as if nothing else in the world mattered except you and him being together.

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It was my very own romantic fantasy. And it worked well for me. For one thing I quite like rain anyway, which is very handy when you live in Lancashire, as rain is a frequent visitor. I love the sound of rain pattering on the window, I like the strange mist it creates when it falls in a soft drizzle and most of all I love the strong summer downpours that we have had recently. Where it arrives suddenly and hurls itself at the ground so that the droplets rebound and create mini-fountains on the pavement. I love it all.

Kate BeckinsaleAnd on a very vain note, I do like the look of my hair when it is wet. It goes all dark and wavy, and makes my eyes look very blue. Kind of like Kate Beckinsale in Underworld (well a little bit!)

So a couple of years ago when I realised that how much I was falling in love with Rob, I thought that my kiss in the rain fantasy could soon become a reality.

But alas! It was not to be, for I soon discovered that Rob, the love of my life, man of my dreams, does not like rain. Not even a little bit.

I think a year of bus journeys to Manchester might have a strong influence on his feelings about rain. Getting caught in a shower in the morning meant he would sit shivering on a bus for an hour and a half, before he even got to work. Which isn’t a great start to anyone’s day. So I can understand why his face doesn’t light up when the heavens open.

But not only does he not like rain, he doesn’t even like it when my hair is wet. I will approach him after a bath with my freshly-washed-still-wet hair, thinking I am looking pretty good. I will go in for a cuddle and although he returns the embrace, he is keen to let go again. When I ask him what what’s wrong, he says, ‘You’re dripping on me!’

My husband does not find getting drenched in the rain romantic. My teenage dream will not be fulfilled, my fantasy kiss will never be.

But I have to tell you that my most beloved teenage daydreams of what love would look and feel like do not come anywhere near to how great love really is.

You see, Rob has never kissed me passionately in the rain but he did spend a night with me in hospital after I had been hit by a motorbike. When the bike hit me I flew into the air and landed squarely on my face. Three of my front teeth were knocked out and there was a deep gash on my forehead. I was covered in dirt and blood, and my face and body was a bruised and misshapen mess.  When he heard the news, Rob left work and came to be at my side. He sat by my bed, held my hand and made me laugh through a night where I was hurt and shaken. And all the while Rob looked at me and smiled at me as if I was the most beautiful girl in the world.

That night was September 6th 2011, a year later on September 8th 2012 he looked at me the same way as I walked down the aisle towards him on our wedding day.

Rob

Cathy

Last week, I was washing up and Rob arrived home from work. Before he entered the house he ran up to the kitchen window and smiled and waved at me. It was only for a moment but that same look was there again. And as I smiled back at him, I thought that his face was the best thing I had seen all day. I hope that when he looks at me he can see my love for him as clearly as I can see his love for me.

I know now that for love to be passionate and romantic I don’t need movie clichés or teenage fantasies, I don’t need flowers or diamonds, speeches or a kiss in the rain. In fact, I don’t even need the kiss. I just need him to look at me.

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