After giving up the fight with Facebook on Saturday, I got into house cleaning. S.M. was at work again. The sun was warm and my front planter looked especially peppy. I tried to think of the last time my husband and I actually just slowed down and did something spontaneously romantic?
Mmmm….it’s been too long.
Early in our marriage, we slow danced in the kitchen to George Strait.
Now late in the marriage, we get so busy with necessary things that we purposely stop and take the time to romance each other.
Saturday…it was not be George Strait, but it was candle light, deviled eggs, toasted feta cheese, toasted bread, salami, and Ritz crackers. I toasted the present and the future with my glass of red wine. S.M. did so with a craft beer.
We took a walk in the evening and listened for the cry of coyotes.
Romance is intimate.
Movies and books like to portray it sometimes as steamy sex or in some perverted or violent form.
S.M. and I love each other so much that we sacrifice for the happiness of the other. Real love romances, believes, and hopes while helping the other. It’s never one-sided.
Dinner was simple Saturday night, delicious, fattening, but relaxing and informal.
I just had to remember where I put those candles!