As you know, Bob, "romance" is a loaded word with an
industry attached to it:
1-800-FLOWERS,
Hallmark cards, pre-packaged
vacations for two,
Valentine's Day gifts, and such. I was never good at that (though I'm told I do
affection well) - in much-younger days, I tried the "buy
flowers" trip, the Valentine's-gift trip... and failed miserably. I couldn't muster the enthusiasm.
I have found that the romance comes from little things (but then again, I can only speak for myself, and not the partners - I will, someday, have them log in and write nasty things about me). Little shared things, like pet abusive nicknames for annoying acquaintances... a botched attempt at a homemade "romantic" dinner for two (it still beat a fancy restaurant - you can't buy makeshift bohemian atmosphere and loving incompetence)... there are old reggae songs that remind me of the silly name an old girlfriend had for "dreadlocks" - the memory doubles the enjoyment of the song...
Little shared things. Things so private and secret that no corp can bland it up and mass-market it. Things that one would have to stamp "you had to be there" in the context of a writeup. But we wouldn't have wanted you there.