My husband is crazy. Like, certifiably-insane.
I know you're probably thinking, "When I look at Pres and Jess, Pres is usually not the one I would dub 'lunatic.'" Just trust me on this one.
When it comes to adventures, Presley and I have very different pictures in my head. I picture a cute brunch place, or a new coffee shop--MAYBE even walking down a new street to look at the cute doors. Presley pictures near-death experiences, and calls them "fun." He's pretty much fearless.
For some reason, I tend to forget that I don't hold the "fearless" trait until I'm ankle deep in ocean-water in the middle of the night--symbolically, of course.
This is probably some type of Amnesia-by-Embarrassment/Danger.
A-B-E/D (n.): a rare masochistic condition in which embarrassment or intense fear causes one to forget an experience, thereby voluntarily repeating the experience over and over again.
Before you ask, YES, I made that up. But it's real.
Before I tell this story, we need some very brief context and background adventure-mation.
Pres and Jess, B.M. (before marriage)
The Mountain Biking Event: This event occurred shortly after Presley and I started dating. I desperately wanted to be the kind of girl who mountain bikes. This kind of thing happens to me frequently--I convince myself that I AM that person. In this instance, I was rudely awakened on the first downhill slope of The Mountain Biking Event, in which my feet came off the pedals and I stifled a scream until I could safely fall into some mud at the bottom of the hill. Yep, that's right. Picture me, terrified-face, legs flailing out to the side of the bike, praying to JESUS that I wouldn't die and that Presley didn't hear me scream. Luckily, he was far enough ahead that I could try and scrape the mud off my Lululemons and pretend I just wanted to get off and walk. After a couple of downhill slopes in the same fashion, I proceeded to walk down the rest of the mountain, LIKE A WIMP.
The Snowboarding Event: A few months later, we ventured back up to the mountain for snowboarding. Mind you, it was my first time on a mountain with snow, like ever. We started out on the bunny hill on Day 1, and I did okay. We came back the next day with hopes of trekking to the top of the mountain and going all the way down. Not so, my friends. We were trying to get down to the bunny hill to practice, and I couldn't even get going. After about five minutes of struggle, I plopped down and cried (because I'm rational), causing the first moment where Presley had to say, "I need you to tell me why you're crying, because I don't understand."
The Night Kayaking Event: We were in Cinque Terre, the five postcard towns on the coast of Italy, for the last leg of our trip. Presley patiently waited for a few days to rent a boat. He was pumped to be able to drive the boat on his own and go out and snorkel and stuff. As we rented the boat, the boat-guy said, "Hey, you guys look pretty fit. Are you good kayakers?" Presley quickly said, "Yeah!" I turned to him and gave him that slow blink face signifying my who-do-you-think-you-are sentiment. I've literally kayaked once in my life. The guy proceeded to invite us into a night-kayaking tour. He wanted to take us into a cave late at night so we could see the plankton in the water--these little guys that make the water glow whenever you touch it.
We met him down at the marina at about 10:30 pm, dressed in wet suits, and then got into our kayaks. We had curious eyes watching from the seaside restaurants as we embarked out on the OCEAN in the pitch dark, with no headlamps or anything. The boat-guy pushed me out into the water, and I quickly plunged straight into the wall of the marina, followed by an eruption of laughter from the diners in the marina. Great start. The boat-guy gave me a quick lesson on how to do the whole kayak-steering thing.
We ventured over to this little tiny cave, barely able to see anything but a darker hole in the darkness. As we moved closer to the darkness, we began to touch the water and see a faint glow. The cave was only wide enough for two people, so the boat-guy led me in and told me to feel above my head so I didn't hit it on the cave. As we slowly entered the cave, the glow became brighter and brighter. The phosphorescent plankton grab the sunlight throughout the day like collecting treasure, and they only give it away at night to those who journey far enough into the darkness. It was incredible. I backed out of the cave, and Presley went in with the boat-guy.
As I sat back and waited, I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life. I began to think about all the power that lies in the sea, and dramatically thought, "What if something just comes out and gets me?!"
Long story short, we kayaked into a little natural pool and drank a bottle of wine as we saw the five towns on the coast completely lit up out of the darkness. Looking back now, I can't even believe we were there. It feels like a scene from a Nicholas Sparks novel.
I learned a lot from this adventure. I learned that seasickness can last overnight, and into the next day. I learned how to row a kayak--like, for real. I learned some things are meant only to be experienced, because a photograph wouldn't even be possible. I learned a lot about my view of God and my faith in Him. I seem to have faith as deep as I can see. I have faith, as long as nothing lies beyond the darkness, as long as I can squeeze the brakes, as long as I can look like I know what I'm doing.
I have so much to learn from this husband of mine. He knows how to let go. This allows him to fully experience and fully see every adventure. And, in true Amnesia of Embarrassment fashion, I can't wait until our next crazy, once in a lifetime adventure.