Valentine's Day came and went yesterday and if it wasn't for my romance loving spouse, I probably wouldn't have noticed. (Except for the RED HEARTS, chocolate, and all the other commercial reminders in every store.) Here is the crazy thing about it. I am actually NOT a very romantic person. My husband readily admits he is the romantic in our union and our children laugh at us because I am always the one balking at 'too much sappy-ness'. He loves all that mushy stuff.
My rule: No PDAs! Gerald's rule: Ignore Tracy and constantly embarrass her in front of others with Public Displays of Affection. I can just hear one of my kids saying, "Come on, Mom. Snuggle up with Dad on the couch and watch a romantic movie." Sigh. (My movie choice is a twisted paranormal or Sci-fi flick.)
I write romance novels. And I read a fair number of them, too, usually for review. Okay, and I watch (and enjoy) a good romantic comedy when my husband twists my arm... probably not that much twisting involved, although I like to make a lot of noise and roll my eyes.
If I am truthful, I actually AM a romantic at heart. I've just had a lot of practice pretending not to be. I think I'm finally coming out of the closet. You see, my husband knows me better than I know myself. He knows that I actually love it when he brings me flowers or when he constantly says nice things. (I know some of you are finding it hard to believe that too many compliments can get irritating...) He ignores my rolling eyes and cries of 'Sappy!" or 'Lame!" and smiles, continuing to lavish me with such ridiculous shows of affection. AND I LOVE HIM FOR IT.
I thank God everyday that He put me with a man who loves me and doesn't mind telling me (or the world) that this is so. Despite my whining, how horrible it would be to be stuck in a marriage yearning for affection. I know this is the case for many once the honeymoon phase has passed. Perhaps this is why I find it easy to write romance novels and believe in that kind of love - the kind where the hero only has eyes for his lady; the kind that lasts for more than thirty years. (We're on our thirty-first year of marriage and thirty-fourth year together.)
God knows best. He knew I probably had self esteem issues (who doesn't?) and needed a man who would relentlessly romance me despite myself. My husband isn't perfect, but he is perfect FOR ME and I thank God for putting two unlikely people like us together.
Lest you think I am totally heartless, I will direct hubs to read this post once he gets home from work. Oh - and I've given in to the PDA thing. A waitress asked us once if we were newly weds. We just looked at each other and laughed. My husband's answer: "She's still my beautiful bride."