I like the way Diana Wynne Jones writes about love. While it's not how Hayao Miyazaki potrays relationships, where two people mentally inspire each other to live and grow and mature, it is still something more closer to my heart. She writes relationships in a way where both characters are inherently flawed and imperfect, and that that shouldn't stop them from chasing their happily ever afters. She writes love in a way where it's something that exists for everyone, in different ways, as a reassurance that no matter where you are, or what you may look like, you can be the most cherished existence to someone else.
And that someone else can be just some guy from Wales who will summon demons from hell just because of a bad hair day, will insist he's cone sold stober when he's clearly not, and will lovingly cure your arthritis. Or it can be a fierce woman who will not hesitate to yeet weed killer in the face of her feelings, likes to cut up suits to teach you a lesson, insists that the root of all her problems is her being born the eldest of three sisters, and can bring things to life with her love. And those are perfectly okay qualities for seeking a happy life.