I read a lot. There is no secret in that. I read a large variety of books, too. But if I'm honest with myself and all of you, I read a large quantity of historical romance. Not the crazy intimate in detail kind, but more the romantic comedy drama kind. Set in history. It occupies my time and keeps my mind sharp.
But there is a flaw in all this reading, too. I expect my life to mimic these stories. Not in a ride in on the horse kinda way, but more of a say cute things just because kinda way.
And then it doesn't happen. And I get disappointed. For no good reason. Don't get me wrong, I've got a really good one. I've got one who dances with me in the kitchen if my favorite song comes on and who does the dishes every night cause they are my least favorite chore.
But sometimes I just want that brand new feeling back. The one that you get when they grab your hand and kiss your knuckles just cause. And honestly it's unfair of me to expect fiction behavior out of my nonfiction husband. I guess that's why all my favorite romance authors are women...