There’s no app for a signed romantic card tucked into the bathroom mirror (or left on the dashboard). No e-card can replace that.

There’s no app for a rose on the pillow. (Or the cat that got to it first . . . )

There’s no app for a candlelit room.

There’s no app for the wet dog nose trying to nuzzle in on your nuzzling.

There’s no app for the sensation that the kids are safely sleeping or reading or playing . . .  for just a little bit longer and you know your door is locked . . . for just a little bit longer.

There’s no app for silence. And there’s no app for holding someone’s hand while looking into their eyes and the silence that speaks a thousand languages all of which you clearly understand.

There’s no app for playing footsies. (Like it or not.)

There’s no app for hugging. Or cuddling. Or a kiss on the shoulder. Or the nape of the neck. Or anywhere else for that matter.

There’s no app for a finger trailing along a line on your body. Or theirs.

There’s no app for the laughter that you share when someone tickles you pleasantly.

There’s no app for a whispered “I love you”. You can’t even text it. Not if you want the full effect. Trust me, if you ever have the choice, you’ll want the full effect. And, by the way, there’s no app for all the reasons that follow those three words.

There is no app for a relationship. The real thing is about being real.

There’s no app for love and the myriad of realities and dreams that come from a connection where the only charge needed is to be in the moment listening and talking.

Because talk is the new sexy. And the new sexy is about the old intimacy with enticing new passion and romance and laughter and fun.

And the old intimacy is worth every penny. Even at today’s rates. It’s a currency you want to keep, to touch, to hold forever. Like that signed card. Like the person who signed it.

 Indeed.