It’s no secret that I hate arguing. In fact, I just wrote an entire damn post on my hatred of arguing. However, I’m with someone who likes to fight and does it frequently so I can’t just avoid it all the time.
He’s a mental ninja. There’s no way to win an argument with him even if I’m the one who started it and I’m the one with the problem. It’s frustrating, but I think I’m learning how to properly argue without losing my cool too much. Actually, I think we’re both learning how to fight properly with each other because he’s changed some of his arguing style. Now at least tells me he needs to hang up before he says something hurtful because he’s learned that those kind of “say it just to hurt you” comment lodge in my brain for weeks and fester. See? Progress!
I kind of understand why arguing is beneficial. I am learning to appreciate the end result of growth and movement at least and I’m learning to REALLY love make up sex. These are things I’ve lacked in previous relationships. The only thing that I’ve not managed to fully harness is how I feel after the argument. Dean can move on like nothing happened. I can’t. I hold onto some of the hurt and anger a bit too long and I’ve noticed I turn it back on him later in a resentful way. This was part of my shocking realization on the drive home from Boston a few weeks ago. I’ve had to work ten times harder at letting that go than anything else I work on in this relationship.
Initially I worried that all these arguments (and for the record, it’s only been a few, but I’m so used to NONE that this is a lot for me) were going to be our downfall. But then I took a long hard look at my relationship past and realized that all the relationships I’ve had have ended in violence, extreme anger, and/or the exact opposite of how they started. They ALL started out really good and without ANY problems. For the first year, I didn’t have a single argument with my first boyfriend. He turned out to be a physically abusive jerk. For the first 4 months with Chet, we didn’t argue at ALL. The first time we did, he vanished for a few weeks and we temporarily broke up. From that point on, every time we argued, he vanished into lock down mode and we’d break up for a while. It turned out he was an emotionally abusive fuckwit. A calm open sea with smooth sailing ends in a hurricane, typhoon, or tsunami.
Maybe these sunny days mixed with rough choppy seas and storms here and there will end in smooth sailing and utter bliss. I’d like to think that all this fighting in the beginning and all the progress being made, we’ll end up with the happiest marriage on the planet since my grandparents got married and that’s why I’ve decided to not let it affect us so much. I can’t avoid fighting with him, but I can change my stance and not let them erupt into what they turn into. I can stay strong, make my point, and let him get his frustration and anger out without letting it hurt me. It’s not personal, it’s just his method. Neither of us is perfect, but the love between us is strong enough to help us both grow together and find the balance.
And the love is very strong. I’ve never felt such a warmth in my heart with anyone else. I’ve never felt such longing to be close to someone physically as I have with him. I’ve never felt so affectionate with anyone else. He holds my hand in public, he touches my thigh when I’m driving, he opens doors and does all the little chivalrous things. He definitely requires more touch and open affection than I do so it’s taken a bit of adjusting to give him exactly what he needs, but he’s patient with me and as time goes on and my fears subside, he gets more and more of me. And because he does all of that and still manages to make me smile at the drop of a hat… well I can handle an argument here are there.
Besides, the make up sex is worth it.