The most romantic words I've ever heard

Next week, my boyfriend and I celebrate our four-year anniversary. It's a big deal. How many marriages survive four years these days?

Wonderful though our relationship may still be, the romance ain't what it used to be. (And frankly, it was never that romantic--at least, not in the traditional sense.)

Let me 'splain.

I'm not criticizing Tony. He's just never been that romantic. At the beginning of our relationship, he brought me a long-stemmed rose. His friends flipped when they found out: the gesture was completely foreign to him.

He told me about their reaction at the time, and he admitted that it wasn't typical behavior. "I've never really felt a girl was worth it before," he said.

Naturally, I bit--hook, line, sinker.

Fast forward four years.

He's still amazingly attentive, but spontaneous flowers are a rarity. These days, flowers are more an element of home decor, rather than an expression of affection.

For Valentine's Day last year, he took me out to a lovely restaurant in Greenwich--exceptional food and ambience. My card? He sent an electronic greeting featuring a cat that made kissing noises with its rectum. (But the card was so him, all I could do was roll my eyes and laugh.)

Tony recently left his corporate job to pursue other dreams. Two nights ago, we were talking about different opportunities he was exploring. I offered my two cents' worth, and I quizzed him about how his short- and mid-term goals aligned with his long-term plans.

In the midst of this conversation, he said, "My ultimate goal to is reach a point where you can stop what you're doing and focus on writing your book."

My heart caught in my throat.

I was stunned and speechless that this brilliant, talented man had that much faith in me and in my literary talents.

That one moment meant more to me than all the roses and Godiva chocolates in the world.