You know you’ve been reading too much romance when your boyfriend brings you your coffee and you dramatically whisper, “I knew you’d come back to me.” And he stares blankly, holding my caramel latte, wondering if he accidentally walked into a Netflix drama set in your kitchen or wondered if you have had a stroke.

Yes, I’m talking about the all-too-real struggle of being chronically romance-pilled while trying to function in an actual relationship with a real-life human man who does not own a castle, isn’t secretly a billionaire with emotional damage, and, tragically, has never once called you “my tempestuous dove.”

Let’s break down what happens when your bookshelf has more tension than your relationship.

1. Expecting Grand Gestures. Receiving… Monster Munch?

Romance novels teach you that love is proven through helicopter rides, spontaneous trips to Paris, and heated arguments in the rain that end in make-out sessions that somehow don’t result in pneumonia.

My partner, on the other hand, showed his love for me by buying me a share bag of monster munch because I seemed hangry. While very sweet and practical, it lacked the emotional catharsis of a forbidden love scene on the moors of Scotland. (Still, 10/10 for the monster munch. I was hangry.)

2. The Smolder Shortage

Romance heroes: brooding, mysterious, with a jawline sharp enough to cut through moral ambiguity.

My partner: very kind, has a Costco membership, makes a great lasagne and loves trains.

Do I love him? Deeply.

Do I sometimes wish he’d slam a door and whisper “I can’t lose you again” in a tortured voice? Absolutely.

Would we both just laugh if he ever tried? Without question.

3. Dialogue: From Swoon to “Did You Take the bin Out?”

In the books:

Her: “I’m scared.”

Him: “Then let me be your safe place.”

In our house:

Me: “I think there’s something in the walls.”

Him: “Yeah there probably is as it is an old house.”

Somehow less sexy.

4. Where Is My Enemies-to-Lovers Arc?!

I didn’t meet him while he was trying to tear down my family business. He didn’t think I was a spoiled heiress with a heart of gold that he had to pretend to hate. We just met online and he bought snacks over. That was it.

There were no enemies. Just snacks. Honestly, the betrayal.

5. You Can’t “Bantery-Flirt” During a Food Shop

I tried once.

Me: “What if I distract you with my wit and sultry charm while you check what is left on the list?”

Him (without looking up): “Only if your sultry charm can find the bread.”

Love is dead.

Final Thoughts: Love in Real Life Isn’t a Novel — and That’s Kinda Nice (I Guess)

Sure, real relationships don’t come with slow-motion kisses and love triangles involving dukes, spies, or immortals. But they do come with shared calendars, pet names that don’t make sense, and someone who’ll is always at hand to fix whatever you have manged to break in the house.

So no, he doesn’t smoulder. But he does know what my favourite snacks are, listens to my chaotic book recaps, and thinks it’s cute when I wake up looking like a troll doll. And honestly? That’s better than any billionaire alpha-wolf-enemy-boss with a dark secret and a six-pack. (Maybe. On a good day.)

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to re-read A Court of Thirst and Trauma, Part 7 and pretend my man just left to fight a war for my honour. He is actually just going to the shop as I seemed hangry again. But still. Close enough.