An MFRW Author Post – And check out the other blogs on the hop!
I’ve been with my boyfriend for about four and a half years. Before Robbie, there was one summer boyfriend, the year before I left for college, but I long enjoyed my life as a single, independent person and rejected the idea of being tied down for any length of time. Obviously, that changed, and we’ve traveled, laughed and cried together for nearly half a decade.
When it comes to romance, Robbie has his finger on the button. As with all couples, there are elements and times when we struggle to see eye to eye or fight about small things that are actually big things, but those arguments never last long and there is always the promise to try harder the next time around, to make a solid, concerted effort toward our future.
The first time I realized just what kind of person Robbie was, we had been dating about three months. Robbie was mostly working morning shifts at the coffee shop during college and I worked Saturday night events and Sunday morning events at the museum, in addition to us both being school full-time, so we didn’t go on our first date until November, several months after we met and began hanging out, but things felt real and comfortable and good.
Fast forward to January, the day before I’m supposed to head back up to Boston after winter break, and I’m down and out with a fever and a cough. I’ve got two huge suitcases, a train, bus and another train ride ahead of me and I’m absolutely miserable. Well, he had already won by heart by that point, but that was the day Robbie won my folks over when he rented a car (he still won’t tell me for how much) and drove the four hours from Boston and back to pick me up and take me to school.
It was a grand gesture and it solidified what I already knew about the cute redhead who’d so captured my attention. He was kind, loyal and protective of those he cared about. And I had become one of those he cared about.
Over the years, we’ve gone on some amazing dates, traveled around the country, hiked, picnicked and swam on both coasts. We’ve spent nights in watching Marvel movies and binging comedy series and days at museums, zoos, aquariums, and bookstores.
And that white knight hero who came to pick me up, sick and sniffling and far from cute all those years ago, had become even more of a force to be reckoned with, a respectful, kind, intelligent hero, who works hard, loves hard and supports me in my endeavors, both when they end well and when they do not. He has gifted me with signed copies of my favorite books and figurines of powerful female characters. At a high point in my writing, he brought me a statue of Wonder Woman and told me that was how he thought about me.
How can I pick one romantic moment, the most romantic moment, when this man has taken me to dinners overlooking Boston for birthdays and graduations, but also stood sentinel when I lost my grandfather and for every single rejection I’ve weathered these years. He is both broad-stroke romantic, impressionistic and brilliantly designed, and detailed, specific, finding the perfect gift, surprising me with the treat I need after a long day.
Romance is not built on those big moments, memorable and beautiful as they are. It is built on the consistent respect, the willingness to learn and grow together, on communication and kindness.
Yes, Robbie does a remarkable job with those big moments, with surprises and New Year’s Eve boat cruises and picnics in the park. But he is romantic for the in-between, the nicknames and soft touches, the pride he takes in me, the respect he has always given to my industry, the determination in his voice when he tells me he won’t let me give up this dream, not ever.
With a hero like Robbie in my romance novel life, how could I ever pick a favorite romantic moment?