#romantic relationships
When writing couples, I like to use the Kiss Rule:
- If they have to kiss for you to know they’re in love, you’re not writing a romance right.
I couldn’t agree more with this. As someone who has been married for 7 years (together for 9), kissing hardly proves anything of love, at least on its own. The starry-eyed lover type of intimacy is cute, but using it exclusively is like eating fondant off a cake. It’s sweet, looks polished and pretty, but lacks robust the flavour of combined elements — fillings, frosting, toppings, and the cake itself.
It’s gestures often overlooked, silent acts of respect without calling attention to them. Subtleties mixed with the obvious.
The good, bad, and the ugly.
- playful banter, ribbing, insults/backhanded compliments
- recognising ticks/tells and how to respond (e.g. specific throat clear before they speak)
- tolerating inconsequential bad habits (e.g. puts dishes beside dishwasher, not in it)
- listening to the same stories multiple times as if they were new
- developing similar quirks (e.g. particular laugh)
- inside jokes
- mock fighting, mini competitions
- blatant honesty, humble apologies, knowing when to drop an argument
- saying nothing/talking for hours
- tending to illness or injuries
- pokes, pet/pats, head/shoulder bumps, bites, tickles, cuddling, long gazes, stroking hair
- grooming, restraighten clothing, touch up hair, brush off crumbs
- singing and dancing together
- understanding your partner’s hurt rather than just apologising
- trust and respect
- knowing how to cheer the other up, how to piss them off, humour them
- reassurance (e.g. I’m here to talk, you’re doing a great job, your insecurities don’t define you)
- associating sights, smells, touches, songs, phrasing, etc with them (e.g. “I saw a pigeon today and thought ‘is this my partner?’”
- hating dumb things they do, but finding them hard to live without and secretly loving them
- compromising, sacrificing, reciprocation
Love is unspoken, tolerant, and a spectrum of emotions.
It’s accepting that you’ll fuckin’ hate their entire being at times, exclaim with vitriol, “god, you’re so fucking annoying” while you smile and know that it’s trivial in the grand scheme.
It’s real. It’s healthy. It’s fun. That’s what I try to encapsulate in my sappy romantic fiction because realistic fluff is so much more gratifying.
I hope this helps.
One of the worst things about chronic illness is how it changes your relationships.
Because you’re so tired, it’s hard to regulate your emotions. You might snap at your loved ones, or lean on them for emotional support too heavily.
You might worry about asking your loved ones for too much help. Even if you have very supportive family and friends, internalized ableism can make you feel that you’re a burden on them.
Worst of all, chronic illness can cause the people who don’t understand it to say very hurtful things to you or even walk out of your life entirely.
It’s extremely hard to cope with the changes that chronic illness brings to your body while coping with the changes it brings to your relationships and your life.
I would love to be with you, but I don’t want to be with someone who’s hurt me so many times.
sometimes I forget that romantic relationships happen in real life and aren’t just part of fiction
someone is going to love you.
love you softly. love you unconditionally. love you empathetically. love you with laughter and through tears. love you hopefully. love you wholly. love you without fear. love you happily. love you without shame. love you for no reason at all. love you for you.
i promise, because i love you. and isn’t that wonderful?
