You meet life with a running start, committing while everyone else is still arranging their thoughts. Your nerve is a gift: you learn by doing and give other people permission to begin. It also means the consequences arrive with witnesses, and sometimes your confidence has to invent a plan after the leap. You are happiest when something is happening, though you can mistake motion for proof that it is worth doing. Under that appetite for the immediate is someone who trusts what holds up over time. You like useful evidence more than grand promises, yet you can keep a long view without turning life into a waiting room. That judgment gives your choices staying power; its cost is that you may make an exciting possibility audition for practicality before you let yourself want it. Together, your daring gets things moving, and your patience decides what deserves to last. You can act before the room is ready without being ruled by the rush, a rare gift that can still leave you doing cleanup in public. Your best choices keep the spark of the first leap and give it somewhere worthwhile to go.