“How do you write romance when you’re not a romantic?”
A question my husband posed to me a few days ago. He’s not wrong. We’re certainly not overly sentimental, not in a mainstream or stereotypical kind of way.
We don’t do flowers–I’m allergic.
We don’t do jewellery–I very rarely wear it.
Our ‘dates’ usually involve either long drives or long hours playing multiplayer video games together (Elder Scrolls Online or Battlefield 1). We rarely eat out at restaurants as not only do they overwhelm me, but we hate leaving our dog, so we usually pick something up to eat in the car.
Yes, we’re that kind of pet parents.
My husband, though, has far more romantic moments than I do.
He leaves love letters in my writing notebooks.
I find them all over the place. He picks random pages in my journals and notebooks to write them in. It’s sometimes, days, months, or even years before I find them.
He’s always done it since before we even moved in together. I have over twenty notebooks and journals with no idea how many of them contain love letters. It’s an exercise in self-control not to simply hunt for all of them.
I love the idea that at any point of time while I’m writing a novel there might be such a lovely surprise for me.
Maybe, we’re more romantic than we thought.
What’s the most romantic thing someone’s ever done for you?