My 9-year anniversary with Mike is in two weeks. After 9 years, I now understand how my parents can let anniversaries like 23 years just go by without more than a card and an extra kiss.
By 9 years, it's not that romance is dead, it just doesn't seem necessary. It's frivolous. And we didn't really like it to begin with anyway.
Last year we got each other nothing. This year we've agreed to split the purchase of an exercise bike to put in front of the TV in the loft. Because nothing says "I love you" more than saying, "You've gotten a little fat. Let's avoid getting fatter, shall we?"
But one of the great things about 9 years is that we can say things like that to each other and laugh about it.
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