An Essay A Day For A Year
By Roe
Day 23, January 23, 2012
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I really like springs of water. I always sit or stand nearby and wonder where the water is coming from. I get the urge to dig right where the spring comes out, and being one of those guys whose pride won’t let me give up, I would probably dig all the way to China. I would imagine that even the water in our springs comes from China nowadays. Nica, my funny wife is different. She wants to follow the water until it inevitably finds a pool or stream, and then she wants to jump in. Me and ice cold water are age old enemies, so I just stare at the water and wonder where it comes from, afraid to start a digging project I’ll never finish. She chases the trickles downstream to see where it is going, and feels complete only when she has goose bumps from head to toe inside of it. It seems funny that we are so different. She rolls her eyes when I peel away stones to see where the water is coming from. “Are you crazy Roe”, she says? And I roll my eyes as she stands there naked screaming from the ice cold water. “Are you crazy Nica?” I tell her. Aren’t we funny.
I’m the candles and music guy, and I love to shop for sexy things for her that I can dress her up in, and then I get all koo-koo head taking most of it right back off again. I’m constantly worried that Imelda Marcos is going to show up and try and steel some of my precious high heels that we both like so much. My wife is different from me. She is the nuts and bolts girl and goes straight for the Superbowl without worrying about pre-game warm-ups or even a season of playing. Somehow we manage to trade talents and styles and in the end we are a wild team. Most of the time I just want to watch my Dorothy strut down the yellow brick road. I just love the sound of her heels clicking on the bricks, not to mention my Dorothy’s fish net stockings. “You’re crazy Roe!”, but she keeps on strutting. What actually happens most of the time is I’m running down the bricks myself, chased by my witchy Nica from the West on her broomstick. But I keep on running. Aren’t we funny.
I’m the “forever and ever, no matter what” boy. I spent every calorie in my heart and wallet on our fairy tale wedding, and I haven’t slacked off in twenty plus years. Living with me is like living in Eden on the convergence of two continental plates that are always shifting. Living with me is like riding the most awe inspiring roller coaster in the world, but in dense fog. I grew up as a surfy L.A. boy, and grew up middle class in the heart of the Age of Aquarius California. I grew up as the son of two German immigrants that didn’t have a clue, but who did their best to live the American dream. I was quite terrified of girls as a young man. Ever since childhood my gorgeous Mom was called “Hexle”, and my Dad said it meant “capricious little witch” in her Schwabisch southern German dialect. Maybe because of dear old Mom, women are indeed capricious witches to me, but I really like them. When I finally tired of avoiding U.S. women, (no, I didn’t say U.S. capricious little witches), I embarked on a trans-continental motorcycle trip from the U.S. to South America. A year into my adventures I stopped to work and hide from the exquisite Central American hexles chasing my long blond hair and blue eyes around. That is when my very cute bilingual secretary Nica snuck up on me when I wasn’t looking. Actually it was the sound of her heels back and forth in my office that snuck up on me. I think that the capricious little witch mold cracked when my Nica popped out. I’m really scared of her broom, but I just can’t stop watching her fly. I even outfitted her broom with special footrests for her latest heels that I bought her. I really like Nica a lot. She is really funny.
Nica is the “forever and ever, but I’m going to bust your butt” girl. She has mined herself and the entire universe to stand with me tirelessly, one foot on each shifting plate. She has walked with white antebellum wedding gown, and then barefoot in a g-string, willingly into the front seat of our free form roller coaster life day after day after day. She has solo-birthed our children in the water and in the ocean, and stood behind our four children’s freedom as we set them free. But she has held fire in one hand and brimstone in the other should I not put my heart and actions where my mouth is. She grew up in a poverty stricken village in Central America, a fiercely headstrong little girl to two farmer parents that didn’t have a clue. But her father did his best to stand behind her dream to study English, and her prodigious spirit managed to evade her subjugation at the hand of Catholic Latin America. Nica does not fear men at all, and when she finally tired of the patriarchal double standard of the men in her country, she took a job with a foreigner as a bilingual secretary. That is when I snuck up on her. That is when my fascination of her spirit, from noticing her tireless support, to respect of her wily broomstick, snuck up on her. I think the lover boy mold cracked when I was born. She has now taken over implementing the direction of our free-form roller coaster life, and even added a second seat for me behind her on her broom. I really like riding there because she likes me a lot. I am really funny.
Nica and Roe are not like two peas in a pod. We are two separate pods that choose to grow together. It is doubtful that we would make good friends without a dream wedding and with the terror of a constantly shifting life. It is doubtful I would even want to ride on her broom with her or dare to endure her spells if she didn’t fascinate me so much as a female that I could consummate my love with. It is doubtful she would want to be around a guy that floats all over the place loving everything from bugs to her fellow hexles. It is doubtful that we would still be loving strong if we didn’t have our four children rooting for us and covering their eyes when we fly wild together. Our evolution together has been heart rending and soul bending. Because of the glue of our conjugal desire and commitment to each other, and the honor and gratitude at having created life together, we are a couple that stays together.
The term soul mate implies that your soul is mated with another, and we use the term to imply that there is just one. I say that my wife and I really, really like each other. I say that we chose each other. I dodged many thousands of exquisite Latinas in one country alone, and Nica endured twice that many Latino Romeos in just one week. But we only chose each other. I say that your soul mate is a person with whom your soul mates.
My soul mate tribute to my beautiful Nica is that I gladly choose to mate souls with her. She is funny. She is evil. She is amazing. Keep that broom handy baby, I am no less awed and no less in fear than the first day I saw you. My wife’s tribute to me is that she gladly chooses to mate souls with me. I am funny. I am crazy. I am amazing. . And yes, my heart and life are still where my mouth is. Your lover boy, no matter what, forever and ever. (but could you please get off your broom for a minute, I want to see you in these sexy heels I found for you!).
Soul mate glue is the glue that leads to enlightenment. Soul mate-dom is real spirituality. And if the glue stretches to breaking and the greener horizons of the next soul mate call, we have to navigate the admiration and respect of the children that come through us, and their belief in us that we can do this. Our children are the unbreakable epoxy of having to get to the next stage of self evolution through the union with another soul.
Me and Nica are so funny. I wouldn’t have it any other way. We both like springs of ice cold water. I like wondering where the water comes from, and then following her to where she takes off all her clothes and then jumps in and screams. Forever and ever. Aren’t we funny.
See you tomorrow.
yourpersonalmuse@gmx.com
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