I love my wife. She’s explosive.
Not me- I’m a pensive type, a thinker. Any decision or reaction requires deliberation before (thoughtfully) putting the wheels in motion. There’s a certain built-in lag time with my responses. If you enrage me, you’ll know about it…eventually. The feedback you receive will be fair and carefully considered before it is delivered in a manner I’ve deemed to be appropriate and productive. We joke that there’s a “planning phase” of everything that I do.
I don’t think she does phases. If you cross her; immediate fireworks. It starts hot and just builds in intensity as she whips herself up into a frothy, percussive blast of raw emotional detonation. It really is something magnificent to behold, assuming you’re not on the receiving end of it. There are tears and shouted words (such words) and maybe even a broken plate or two if Mercury is in retrograde. Truly a force of nature.
It took some getting used to, to be sure. My rookie mistake was attempting to still the storm before it reached full strength. If you ever want to see some fireworks, look an irate Greek woman in the face and utter the ill-fated phrase “calm down”. No, you have to ride the wave until it peaks and eventually breaks on the shores of exhaustion. Then, with a little caution, you can proceed to something resembling conversation- if you’re feeling bold enough to open your mouth.
Like I said, I love it. For someone who relies too heavily on detached analysis and dispassionate reason, her complete zest for the moment is so necessary. It’s a reminder that emotions that have been over-processed aren’t real emotions anymore and that problems aren’t always best solved with the brain. When your heart is open, the gates are down and whatever comes out is truly, beautifully you. And you get to buy new plates!