Last night, I spent quality time with my husband (btw, I’m married now). By quality time, I mean we sat on our new couch, put our feet up, drank lots of wine and watched “300”. Though watching a Greek King take on a massive Persian army was super interesting, I could NOT stop thinking about the guy sitting next to me. The one with the belly, breathing with his mouth slightly open, double chin on full display, lounging in his comfy clothes that don’t match. Yep, that’s my baby, handsome as ever.
QUICKLY! I drunkenly snatched the closest piece of scratch paper I could find along with a pink Pilot G-2 series and scribbled down “Who is my husband?” and carelessly underlined it. “What is that?”, he asks me. “Oh….. nothing.”
Here I am reviewing the list. My first thought? ‘Jesus, is this my handwriting?’ I’ll do my best to make out what drunk Ari had written. Here is the list, word for word, letter for letter. In bold are the original words that I wrote last night. In italics, explanations written 24 hours later.. Fair warning, it may not make sense, but it came directly from the drunken heart to the sober paper, with the help of some cheap red wine. I present to you:
Who is my Husband?
- imaginary friend – While creating this list, my mind circled around our childhood. His and mines. This was pertaining to mines. My imaginary friend isn’t someone that I could describe to you. I couldn’t tell you if it was male or female, what it wore or how tall it was. It was more of an energy than an imaginary person. It would always be around, there to listen, offering words of advice. Now that I think about it, from a psychological point of view, I think it was me taking care of me, showing up for myself. Jason, my husband, has become that energy. Always around, there to listen, offering words of advice.
- there before I met him – I know quite a few people have experienced this. That feeling of knowing someone your whole life, even though you just met. This is probably what I meant. Cliché, but true.
- puzzle fit – I remember mentioning this to Jason in bed, before we went to sleep last night. It was something along these lines, “Babe, you know those strips you put on your nose that are supposed to take out all the dirt & crud? I’ve figured out that the strips leak some kind of paste-like substance that fill your pores and when you rip them out, it makes you think you got rid of the white heads, but really it’s just the paste. My point is, you’re the strip. Not that you’re a fraud. But you fill all my pores, you get me, we fit.” Jason can vouch for me on this, I say some weird shit when I’m intoxicated.
- same root, separate stems, to meet again and blossom together – I seriously felt like a drunk poetic genius after I wrote this one. I’m hoping it’s my brain that came up with this and it’s not just something I heard randomly and forgot the source. From extremely similar childhoods, different young adult lives, to becoming happily married with a family. That’s basically what I was trying to get at with this.
- familiar hands – no clue. absolutely, no clue.
- mutual belief in “us” – With all of the couples therapy sessions and individual therapy sessions we’ve gone through these past years, it has helped us establish a strong and healthier relationship. This is my confidence that Jason feels the same way.
- does without having to ask – dishes, laundry, cooking food for the family, etc. This guy does it all. I am the spoiled rotten Queen of the house. I am somewhat ashamed of this, but it’s just soooo nice after being a single mom for years.
- treasures his childhood self – makes him better with kids – I am a person so concerned with how other people view me, what other people think of me. Jason is the opposite, he wears his heart on his sleeve. The heart of a playful child. Dancing, singing, anywhere, everywhere.
- soft yet strong – chubby dude that opens my lilikoi butter jars.
- chef @ home and @ work – Jason does 85%-90% of the cooking. (He will probably tell you it’s more like 95%) It is, after all, how he convinced me to go on our first date. “Breakfast for dinner.” How shame that I was bribed with breakfast food.
- warm bear hugs – “recharge” we call it. Nothing fixes a long, shitty day like coming home to your family and getting huge hugs. Oh, the relief.
- refills my wine glass – Most likely why this blog post exists.
This post is dedicated to my husband, Jason Elliott. I hope the best for us, and better for you. I love you, My King.