Loving His Wild Heart

I’m starting to think that leaving your dirty underwear on the bedroom and/or bathroom floor is engrained into a man’s DNA. I remember hearing older women joke about it at conferences or at my job, but I didn’t think that it was a real phenomenon until I got married.

Truth be told, I’d prefer a cleaner man. I’m a “everything in its place” kind of woman. I guess it’s because I deal with emotional and mental disasters 9 hours a day, so when I come home…I’d rather my floor not look like someone ransacked my bedroom like they were attempting to find that stash of money that may or may not be in my husband’s sock drawer.

I feel a constant, nagging desire to tame his boyish ways. But there are moments when I hear myself go from occasional comments about using the foot of the bed to harbor dirty socks, to persistant reminders about his poor punctuality, and then to quick-witted slanders on how irresponsible he can be. Whoa.

Seriously, whoa.

How did I get here? How did a mild desire for cleanliness turn into a war against his character? A tightening up towards doing the right thing becoming a shift into being (my version) of the right thing?

I keep picturing the stereotype of the nagging wife in curlers; beating her husband with a rolling pin…and it just doesn’t settle it for me. Besides, I don’t even wear curlers…

My husband has one of the wildest hearts of any man I’ve ever met. His wide-eyed ambitions, musings, and passions are unmatched to me. But, occasionally, I try and contain it. Tell him to quiet down. Don’t embarrass himself. Act serious.

At times without even thinking.

But then I see a small bit of light leave his eyes. And the other part of me (who was quiet up until this moment) starts to panic. The part of me that also craves adventure, but envies the courage he takes to pursue it. That part, that can tend to be dormant, sincerely apologizes and tries to recover.

I’ll spend a day or so secretly chastising myself.

Because I forgot that men grew from boys. And boys are messy, playful, and bold. A man’s heart can handle both responsibility and passion. Wisdom and adventure. And he encourages me to play with him. Nothing compares with the brightness in his eyes when I come out of hiding to join him in adventure. When I could care less about the dirty socks, bills, and looks from strangers. When I laugh at him and say “Why not? Let’s go!”

Honestly, I’ve never seen him happier.

Sometimes, I think that because I can balance our checkbook better than he can, that I know more about how to handle life/marriage. But, I’m learning daily that this part is only a very, very tiny portion of it all.

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