There are two key elements to kite-flying: the kite and the kite-flyer. I suppose you could go technical on me and demand inclusion of the wind, the string, the structure of the kite, etcetera but admit that the kite and the flyer are the two bare-boned, minimum elements.

A kite comes in any shape, color, and size. It is bright and bold and demands attention. Sometimes it’s even gaudy.  It dips, climbs, and dives all over the sky in a mind of its own and, on occasion, crashes into the ground at which point the flyer needs to give it a little heave-ho to get it back up again. It rides the currents and goes where the winds take it.  A kite’s only restraint is the little string connecting it to its flyer.

I am the kite. More specifically, I am Kevin’s little kite.

I am a generally carefree person. A map?: Sure, but don’t I just need to go east to get to Ohio? When my sister and I went to Europe, I will give her every credit for planning out our trip. It was so much fun, but my participation in planning was screaming with excitement and naming places we should go and then she’d have to look them all up and figure out the where, when, and how. (Thank you, Carla!) Without her, I would’ve been backpacking around Europe for months, just hopping rail lines and grabbing taxis.

I’m a “mayli mayli” person. From Uzbek to English, it literally translates “alright, alright”, but is used in conversation with similarities to “que sera sera.” [Include a shoulder shrug with both palms facing up, “Ach, mayli mayli.”] That’s me.  A kite.

Kevin is the opposite. Kevin needs facts. Kevin does in-depth research. Kevin reads real news. (I look to TMZ for mine.) Kevin wants a map with details and pictures and a voice navigation system.  Let’s be honest, I just pack the snacks.  And while some of that intense research and knowledge seems like nonsense to a floater like me, I know that I wouldn’t be where I am without him.

Our differences make us a team because, Lord knows, I need someone to hold onto me as a flit and float about.  Kevin keeps me grounded and brings me back to reality when I get carried away too far. (Which, obviously, never happens.)  What would I be without him? I’d be a flyaway, stuck in a tree branch somewhere in the Dakotas saying, “Ach, mayli mayli.”

I’m not saying I’m stupid or useless, but everyone knows that a kite in the sky is better than a kite in a tree, though both are still kites. 

I’m his little kite and I’m crazy about him.  He will probably never understand just how ridiculous my level of infatuation for him is.  I just adore him.  I would dive and swoop and make beautiful arcs in the sky just to make him smile.  That’s how much I love him.

Baby, let’s go fly a kite.