He doesn’t comment on my photos telling me how “gorgeous” or “hot” I am to him, and I don’t get the “I love you too, baby’s” whenever I post something admiring him.
We played phone tag for hours and then he texted me a text I hope no one ever has to receive from someone they love and miss: “Still not working. Phone’s going to die. If this goes through, I love you.”
Romance isn’t shiny, expensive or luxurious. Instead, it’s rather ordinary. It’s demonstrated by a husband who keeps showing up day after day despite the mess and hard work that’s involved. It’s the million little acts of service that are done simply out of love.
The flowers die. The chocolate and meals get devoured. And the surprise getaways happen, and then they’re over. But it’s in the moments that you can depend on (over and over and over again), well, that’s where the love is found.
