On Reddit and many other places, we encounter adults who declare there is no such thing as a lasting, deeply intimate, completely honest, romantic, passionate friendship/love/sex/married relationship. Never mind that we (grandparents now) have been living this for decades and our appreciation for each other as people and our lust for each other as sex partners only seems to grow more intense. It’s not real, we’re told. It’s a Disney-inspired fantasy. We’re just romanticizing. People are hurt, lonely, and bitter because they are not so lucky in love, and to make themselves feel better they deny what they hoped to—but failed to—find is even possible. It’s a sad thing, and we feel sorry for them. But we also feel immense gratitude. We found each other and what we have keeps getting better.