So we are on the cusp of Valentines Day. There will be a lot of romantic dinners and flowers and blah blah blah. My husband does not buy into the Hallmark holiday and I am not expecting anything. He goes crazy for our anniversary so that’s what matters. Valentines is what you do when you’re single, when you don’t have kids or a track record or a big mortgage. It’s a rite of passage for a couple that isn’t sure this is for the long term. That’s what makes it sexy.
So. Flowers? Dinner with oysters and strawberries? (Everybody has read the Aphrodiasiac’s cookbook.) Followed by crazy sex with lots of orgasms and dirty talk.
I’ve been married forever so for me Valentine’s is dinner out. A glass of wine. Look after the dogs and maybe some sex. Maybe not because we’ll be tired after dinner and the dogs.
Does that make me sad? Hell no! I don’t miss the unreal expectations of the holidays. I don’t miss wondering why I don’t feel the rush. I don’t miss being crazy because it didn’t live up to my expectations, like Christmas. I like reality,
And yet, I write romance novels which have no grounding in reality. If you want to escape the laundry and the kids and the mundane check out my novels and let yourself be swept away.