Member-only story
When arguing with your other half is no fun
They’re tired. I’m tired. It weighs us down.
It’s the absolute worst when it’s over something trivial. Chances are, we’ll probably forget about it in a day or two just like before.
Wishful thinking is hoping it doesn’t bleed into the next day. Just don’t push the wrong buttons and all will be well.
Don’t get me started on fruitless arguments. If I wanted to suffocate, I’d do that on my own, rather than drown in a pit that lacks a resolve.
And you know what? Sometimes I actually don’t want to be the bigger person. Emotions already running amok so pettiness is to be expected.
It’s a messy, deranged, and nauseating ordeal I wouldn’t wish on anybody.
Could it be us having just one bad day?
Incompatibility? Or our karmic punishment?
What the hell did I do in my past life?
But I love them either way.
After all, I signed up for this. It’s only natural we have our differences.
It’s annoying, and although giving up is an option, it’s too cheap of an alternative.
Not worth throwing away in the grand scheme.
Could be a heck of a lot worse. And chances are, I’d deal with the same issues with a new set of vices.
But I have love for us both and I don’t mind doing this with them in the long haul. Even if it means we bump heads from time to time.
