Neflix production of One Day is brilliant, it emulates the unfolding of every relationship

So much is convoluted (Pride and Prejudice) or improbable (Ghost) or ponderous (Normal People) or so achingly sad (Brokeback Mountain) that you wonder if popular culture has ever properly done its job of reflecting life back to us.

But then a story comes along that’s so perfect, so utterly convincing in both character and execution, that you turn the last page or watch the credits after the final scene and say quietly to yourself: “Ah, yes, that is love. That is what love looks and feels like.”

One Day is that story. From novel to movie to new 14-part TV show, this charming tale, which revisits two young university graduates called Emma and Dexter on the same day every year for two decades, has been both lauded and mangled. David Nicholls’ 2009 novel was so compelling and recognisable in its chronicling of fin de siècle love that the minute I finished it, I started reading it again.

It wasn’t just that the two protagonists graduated from university the same year as me or that the tone and structure had the deftness of, say, Nick Hornby or Helen Fielding’s Bridget Jones. Mostly, it was because the love story it told was familiar.

Uncomfortable, mismatched, earnest, funny, unrequited and yet always in reach of the transcendent, it showcased love in all its ephemeral guises. Even if you’re fortunate enough to create love (because let’s be honest, no one really “finds” it), as One Day illustrates, there is no guarantee you will keep it.

I won’t spoil it – Anne Hathaway already did that in the 2011 movie when her beauty made the storyline implausible and her egregious northern British accent murdered what might have been a reasonable enough script. But now it is back, with two formidable actors in Ambika Mod and Leo Woodall.

Working with a scriptwriter who has employed the short episodic streaming model to magnificent effect, it’s a series that will stand up for decades to come.

I had to stinge watch it, it’s so good. Unlike bingeing, which is satisfying in the moment but can leave you feeling harried and emotionally whipped, stinge watching is deliberately slowing down your viewing so you can enjoy each moment (in sexual terms it’s called “edging” but I digress).

I even stopped halfway through the penultimate episode partly so I could catch my breath but mostly because I didn’t want it to end. Why is it brilliant? Essentially, because the structure so perfectly emulates the unfolding of every relationship.

At first you’re not sure if the posh, aimless, “I’ll be spending the summer in France” Dexter is a fit for the bookish, earnest, working class Emma.

As the novel dictates, they seem incompatible not only in their level of attractiveness but in their interests and friends. To be blunt, he comes across as stupid; she as rude.

Yet as their story unfolds it is everyone’s story.

The vulnerability of youth, the things unsaid, the behaviour regretted, the crappy make-ends-meet jobs, the partners who give you the ick, the envy towards peers, the fretting over money, the jettisoned friends and the loyalty of some you truly appreciate much later than you should. Many will wince at Dexter’s selfishness as his mother battles cancer – but may recognise such rubbish behaviour in themselves.

Equally, they will be heartened when our lead couple bicker over one partner’s determination to stay abreast of global events while the other shows little interest. There is boredom, too. With life. Each other. Raising children.

It’s so real you could scoop it off the screen and plop it on most couches where couples now find themselves in side-by-side mindless screen scrolling.

One Day artfully uses the evolution of phones – from payphone to landline to mobile – as an emblem for the passing years. Despite greater connectivity the clumsiness of communication that thwarts every relationship is both relatable and timeless.

Not since Richard Linklater’s Before Sunrise and the subsequent Before Sunset and Before Midnight, each released nine years apart, have I been so enamoured by a love story. There, too, Jesse (Ethan Hawke) and Celine (Julie Delphy) explore long love for what is: steadfastness held together by compromise, acceptance and memories of that original sprinkling of stardust.

Authors and filmmakers will never finish wrestling with love. From the saccharine (The Notebook) and the meandering (Sense and Sensibility) to the wisecracking (When Harry Met Sally) and heartbreaking (Philadelphia), there is commendable tenacity in trying to harness this most mercurial and enduring of emotions.

In the era of “couple goals” where we strive for something we observe in celebrities or on Instagram, One Day is a reminder that love isn’t manufactured but delivered by happenstance and maintained by quiet perseverance. It is poetic and practical, whimsy and captivating, always – yet never certain.