on married romance

I've always been slightly adverse to romance and by "slightly" I mean absolutely positively adverse to romance. It's just so stereotypical and boring. Vomit inducing. Cringe worthy. I'd rather stab myself in the eye and eat a banana than receive flowers on Valentine's Day. That kind of person. Yup, that's me. Luckily, I married a guy who would never buy me roses {because he wants to live} and would never, ever, ever, have proposed to me on Valentine's or Christmas {because he wouldn't have much liked drowning in vomit}. I'm also super lucky that the Husband doesn't mind I'm a cynical cow. And he loves me for me. That too.

Still, I don't mind some kind of swoon-worthy moments in my life. Like cheesecake in bed with a guy who knows that I find much more satisfaction in eating it straight from the packaging. Or reading together on quiet, chilly, nights. Or being surprised with a bouquet of strawberries. 

You always hear stories about how, the longer you're married, the romance dies. But I don't think that's true. I just think you learn to finally admit to yourself that the cliched romance is bullshit and you don't need candles lit while you're having sex. Sometimes, the most romantic thing a Husband can do is wash dishes twice a day if they're piling up or bring you back a stuffed chicken from Ikea. I used to think that sounded boring even long after the Husband tried to choke me with disgusting scented candles while trying to seduce me. But now...

The longer you're married the more you know each other, the easier romance gets, and it's wonderful. Because you get to just be with each other and stop trying so hard in all the ways that don't count.

So, I'm a huge lover of married romance. The kind people write off as "tired" and "boring". I'd much rather cheesecake in bed than flowers or a fancy dinner and I couldn't be happier. 

No Comments Yet, Leave Yours!

be nice. unless you can be cake and then always be cake.