Loving someone is like moving into a house. At first you fall in love with all new things, amazed every morning that all this belongs to you, yet fearing that that someone might suddenly come rushing through the door and saying that a terrible mistake has been made and you aren’t supposed to live in such a wonderful place. Then, over the years, the walls become weathered, the wood splinters here and there, and you start to love the house not because of its perfection but rather because of its imperfections. You get to know all the crooks and nannies. How to avoid getting the key caught in the lock when it’s cold outside. Which of the floorboards flex slightly when one steps on them or exactly how to open the closet doors without them creaking. These are the little secrets that make it your home.