…always want to know about everything that’s not important?
I’ve been remiss. I admit that. But, I’m not one to talk just for talking’s sake. Same with writing. I will write to my heart’s content if I’m the only one reading it, but I refuse to write to bore everyone else around me. I had professors like that back in college. Not fun. But I get little pokes here and there saying that people want to know more about me. More about my not-so-mundane lifestyle.
So, straying more towards the aspect of the Soldier and me than the pirate in me, relationships can be complicated. Even if we weren’t on two different ends of the dress-up-on-the-weekend spectrum, there’s still the fact that our lives are busy and we spend a lot of time just trying to catch up. I think he and I do well at communicating our frantic schedules. We have quiet moments where we just snuggle on the couch and watch movies. Or where we go out for bowling with friends. But the complicated stuff isn’t the stuff we do everyday. It’s the stuff that lingers. The stuff that doesn’t get done or said. Because I can only push and prod so far before I know the Soldier will get a little tetchy. I ask for something, or he does, and it falls by the wayside. Not because we don’t care, but because we know each other well enough to understand that sometimes other things take priority. We have jobs, families, people who depend on us.
More complicated is the exciting stuff. Say, buying a house or talking about the future. Yeah, those events are big things that tend to have little daily consequences. Those little daily issues rack up after a while and start making something exciting into something aggravating.
There’s no doubt that he and I will be house hunting for a while and it will cause friction. I’m instinctive. If something sings to me, I go ahead without needing or wanting to see if there’s something better out there. I know when something feels right, so I go for it. It’s worked my whole life. The Soldier? He ponders. He thinks and debates and never lets his instinct dictate his next course of action. I know this is going to cause issues. I can feel it. I will know, almost instantly, if I will be happy with something material. Car, house, clothes…you name it. I’m sure that if he found something he absolutely loved, he would hem-haw for some time, keep looking to make sure he was getting what he really wanted, and then would make a decision. Nothing is instinctive for him and it drives me crazy! How can you not know what you really want? Yes, I know houses are a big decision. The idea of settling down is even bigger. But how can he not know what makes him happy in a house? Isn’t that more of a gut feeling than a brain’s concept?
So, for those of you who say that I’ve been quiet and remiss in my writing, I apologize. Buying houses is frustratingly exciting. I think that’s important news regarding “me”. My latest fashion, my current diet, those aren’t the things that define me. Those are things that I do. But, ladies and men-folk, the Soldier and I are house hunting. If it were as easy as being a pirate, I’d be so much happier right now.