The Patience of a Good Man

Every day John Brownstone surprises me. Astounds me, really.

His patience, his goodness, his ability to let the insanity of life seemingly roll off his shoulders.  I know some of the stories of his childhood. He should have so many more issues to deal with.

Not that he hasn’t dealt with his past. But while I’m a blob on a therapist’s couch spitting out fears and anxieties, he discusses his past and how he feels about it calmly — with clear determination not to let the past repeat itself. After one conversation, my therapist proclaimed him “fine” — no, that isn’t a technical term, but after one conversation with me, we set more appointments.

I benefit from the goodness of John Brownstone every single day.

When, like today, my mental health takes a nose dive, he’s a calm port in the storm. I can rage against the noise in my head and he sits still, waiting for the tidal wave of my emotions to recede again. To remind me that it will be okay. To give me sweet treats and help…whatever I might need to hang on a few more moments.

When life goes topsy-turvy, he’s indulgent. When I desperately need a firm hand, he provides that, too.

How he manages to be so patient in a world that’s so fucking noisy, chaotic, and uncertain, I’ll never know. But I’m glad I benefit from that patience. I’m amazed that he’s been the good influence on me rather than the opposite being true. I could have brought him down into my anxiety or despair (at least, that’s what my lying brain tells me). But he brings me up into a calmer space, where we can talk through things, sometimes finding a new way to think about them, sometimes finding a solution.

His well of patience is a direct contrast to my lack…in so many ways. Take bondage as just one small example. He can spend hours tying himself, tying me, practicing, organizing his rope. Five minutes of being tied up and I’m twitchy, moving, offering to help, shifting from side to side. Sure, I might do it for the light smack and the quiet, “Be still, babygirl.” But it’s also the perfect illustration of how we differ.

I am surrounded by the patience of a good man, and it’s the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me.

This week’s Wicked Wednesday prompt is “astonish.” After a long day of dealing with the depression side of a bipolar swing and the chaos and reality of being the parent of a teenager, this is all my tired brain can focus on. But John Brownstone is always worth the extra attention.