Friends of mine (and some family members) have this idea of what a romance writer's life is like. We write romance, so of course our lives are full of flowers, fantasy dates and passionate sex. Right?
My third wedding anniversary was last month. My husband and I spent the entire night alone... working on our income tax files. Yeah, that's hot.
I think part of the romance writer myth is that every day is about the sexy side of love. That white hot lust that makes us reach for each other.
But the reality is that, at least in my life, every day is about the practical side of love. Being a partner in this life my husband and I have created together. I take care of him by making sure we have healthy meals, clean dishes, and paid bills. He cares for me by making sure the laundry is done so that I'll have clean uniforms for work and making a comfortable home that is beautiful. And he also ensures that our taxes get paid (thanks, baby). We care for each other by ensuring that we can each run after our dreams but have a safe place to come back to when things don't go like we thought. Or celebrate together when they do.
So maybe doing taxes on our anniversary is romantic. Because we're partners in this life, and that means doing the mundane things a lot of times. But at least we're doing them together.
And to me, that's true love.