Last weekend Patrick and I celebrated our formal two-year anniversary; I surprised him with a night at a local bed & breakfast.

This being Utah and all, I was a little concerned about two men showing up to check-in at a “romantic” locale. I hate that I worry about stuff like that. I hate that I feel like I have to worry about it. I’ve never had anything even remotely negative happen, but it’s still a fear.

The B&B, however, was awesome. I knew we were in good hands when the guy at the front desk lit up when Patrick and I walked in the door. “I just love it when you guys come stay with us,” he said, “I’m family, too, you know!”

I don’t know why I worried about this one; the place was way too fabulous to not have a little homo help!

But whether it’s dinner reservations on Valentine’s Day or booking an anniversary room, obviously-romantic endeavors always put me a little on-edge. I know that even if someone is rabidly conservative, he or she would probably never intentionally do something to make us uncomfortable (mostly for fear of losing our business—which they would).

Even that initial “Ohhhh…” look people sometimes get when it “clicks” in their brains makes me cringe. I really prefer when people don’t even bat an eye, like it’s a totally typical, normal thing.

Because it is.