Five: That he is made mostly of nerd. It’s like living with a human-wikipedia. Full of quite useless, somewhat factual information, he is also known to throw in a knob reference at the most unexpected moment.

Four: His definition of manliness. Sure it involves chopping wood, and wearing aftershave secreted mostly from the aggression glands of tigers. But also it involves putting out the rubbish because he knows it make me gag. And knowing what flowers to buy for each vase, (also how to maintain their life with a home made concoction of bleach and vinegar). And when Generally Bad (and possibly PMS related) Shit is Going Down, he is there with hugs which we both know means, ‘I haven’t got a fucking clue how to fix it, but this is the best thing to do until I find a shiny thing to distract you with’.

Three: His obsessions. The first time he stayed over, I found him in the kitchen straightening my pictures. He is currently reading an absolutely thrilling book about football tactics that I can’t wait for him to finish. Over a period of months, he has successfully experimented with beans, temperature and cup size, and is now able to create the perfect espresso.

Two: His own journey has taken him all kinds of interesting places, including the edge of the cliff. Something inside him made him turn around and start walking towards me, for which I will be forever grateful. I don’t ever want the conversation to be over.

One: The number one thing? Well to be honest its really hard to decide between the Tom Sellecky manly chest rug and his fearsome, fourteen-inch wang, with built-in sound system, and disco lights*.

Happy Birthday lovely man.

*Poetic licence.

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