He's so different from me I often wonder how we've ended up together. I'm wound so tightly, and I have all of my ducks in such neat tidy rows. I have my life plan, I have my goals and come hell or high water I'm going to accomplish them when I planned to accomplish them dammit. I've never been one for the spontaneous, and I love my to do lists. While he, he wouldn't know what a to do list was if it jumped up and bit him. He does what he wants when he wants. He doesn't worry about what he'll be doing five years or ten years from now, and he would laugh in your face at the mention of a life plan. He is just happy to be - happy to be here with me.
I tell him over and over again he is my calm, he is my smooth waters, my best thing. For when my lists get to long or my plans go awry he pulls me to him, my sea of calm. Sometimes I feel unworthy of him. I'm so busy reaching for that next goal, looking ahead to that next step on that life plan that I forget to breath and look at what I have right now. He's never too busy for that, he's never too pre-occupied to tell me that he loves me, or cup my face in his hands and kiss me on the forehead in that way that I love. I fear that I fail him as a wife.
He takes risks where I would rather stay back and make sure it was safe before I ventured out. At times I wish he wouldn't take so many risks. I wish he wouldn't smoke, I wish he wouldn't drive so fast, I wish he wouldn't drive around with the gas tank on E; but he does and he will because that's him. That's the man that I married. I married the man who didn't give a shit what the rules were. Who showed no fear at riding a motorcycle or shooting a gun, and I loved him for those things then as I do now.
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| Adding another tattoo that I love. |
This man drives me so crazy it hurts - I worry that he lives too fast, that he doesn't take responsibility, that he will always be a drifter. Then he looks at me with those deep blue eyes and he says, "I love you darlin'" in that deep Hoosier accent, and the calmness washes over me once more. He may be a drifter, but he is my drifter - he's not going anywhere and neither am I. We need each other - the planner and the drifter, I pull him back as he pulls me forward in a perfect equilibrium.
When I'm old and wrinkled there is no one else who's wrinkled hand I want intertwined in mine than my drifter's. He is my heart, my soul, my calm - my drifter.
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