The daredevil husband

Justin is 14 months younger than me. This means that I have unassumingly become a ‘cougar.’ You have no idea how much teasing I put up with when I hit my 30th birthday. He had a blissful year or so to harass me about being ‘in my 30s.’ Luckily for me, he turned 30 a couple of months ago, so it’s eased up a bit.

My husband spent five years serving in the U.S. Navy, stationed in San Diego, and was deployed overseas several times. I’m relieved that he’s out of the military now; I would be a nervous wreck. My years spent in the service involved 2-3 week long stints overseas, and never anywhere dangerous. Perhaps it was fate that we started dating when we did. (Oh, and the fact that I made a bad decision and was married to someone else when I first met Justin.) He received an honorable discharge from the Navy and returned to our hometown, where we met again. Finally we were both single and in the same town. And the fact that my lifelong best friend was married to his brother didn’t hurt.

Justin tackled nursing school during the year that we dated. He completed his LPN, got a job at a local hospital, and all was grand. Minus the insane schedule, the stress and pressure of making a mistake, and the fact that we were lucky if we spent 12 hours together in one week. We got married, he got laid off, and spent some time re-evaluating his decision to be a nurse.

Now Justin is working at his father’s office, trying to decide what to do with the rest of his life. Neither of us seem to be following the traditional path of careerdom, but at least we are both equally dazed and confused. And broke.

Justin is a man’s man. He enjoys fishing, camping, hunting and adrenaline. He’s currently planning a survival trek in Alaska for next year. He’s gotten in trouble a few times, but underneath that charming smile and lone dimple is a heart that is sensitive, and I know it’s been broken.

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