I was waiting for the first dust-up to come – they’re inevitable in relationships, and they recur over the entirety of the existence of couplings. How you manage them is the key to success or failure. Last month, I focused on minor frustrations, likely the hairline fractures that would set up the argument/disagreement to come. Though, I’m not even sure that would be the best categorization. Let me provide some background. 

We’d had a good day (a Saturday), running errands, popping in and out of places neither of us had been or hadn’t been in a while. We interspersed some booze here and there, but not in excess, just maintaining a steady buzz. After several hours being out and about, we went back to my place and were sitting in the sunroom listening to music, each with a drink nearby, my feet propped up on her lap at her prompting. She brought up an innocuous statement I’d made via text when she’d asked me if I was “pro” or “anti” audiobooks – I said “anti” except for car road trips. I thought nothing of it and had no idea it would circle back at all, and certainly not in the way that it did. She (a single mom) reintroduced the item – playfully, in her defense – but twisted it in a way I didn’t intend, instead framing it as a callous dismissal of the struggles of working parents. You see, I said that people who don’t read are doing themselves a “disservice” (and society, too), and that listening to audiobooks was not equivalent to reading actual ones, in terms of the development critical thinking (which, admittedly, has been credibly challenged elsewhere) or the positive effect it has on cognitive function (i.e., brain health). This elicited a response from her that was framed as a defense of the downtrodden, overworked, and overburdened of the world, but really, she was implying that I’d spoken down about her specifically; this couldn’t be further from the truth. 

I heard somewhere that if you have more good days than bad days with someone, that if you laugh more than you cry with them, that if when you think of them you smile more than frown, that you’re probably in a pretty good situation, so don’t blow it. (Image retrieved from here and comes courtesy of Anna Tarazevich)

It is true, however, that I am a judgmental person (a major fault I’m aware of) and I do often speak in sweeping indictments, but that’s in part for efficiency, and in part to see what I can get away with. It turns out that I didn’t get away with anything this time. Anyhow, she kept drilling in, and I was losing my patience – why couldn’t she just drop it? She saw that her “attack” was irritating me. Then she started to bring up other examples of my judgmental tendencies, all of which were laughable and petty. She was grasping for straws, or so it seemed, then she said the thing that shut me down completely: “I could write a whole list of the things you’re overly judgmental about.” Really? You’re keeping track? You must not be very happy in this relationship. She then asked me to say something and I only said, “Okay. I don’t know what else to say” and completely shut down, wanting to her leave, but totally caught off guard by what transpired as well. It wasn’t that I was mad at her per se, I just couldn’t believe she took it where she did. She seemed to sense she’d overstepped and left.

Usually, she texts me when she gets home, and she didn’t, so I texted her. No response. Then I called. No answer. Finally, she texted back, indicating she made it home safely. Okay. I was frustrated but went to bed (not that I slept well). I woke up to two texts: the first sent about 1130pm, 30 minutes after I went to sleep, still pushing that line and framing me as some thoughtless individual lacking self-awareness (I’m overstating this for effect), and then one at 6am basically clawing it all back, saying she was sorry for making such an issue out of something that wasn’t one at all. I called her when I woke up and made plans to see her later that day (a Sunday). We sorted everything out and it was restored.

We’d also already had plans to travel down to Atlanta together for a few days later that week (Wednesday-Friday) for a work thing of hers, and we kept those plans. We had fun. She came over that Saturday, and we went to another pre-established activity, a photoshoot at a JC Penny (I kid you not!) that she set up because she thought it would be funny. It was a blast. We had a great day. 

A lot can happen in one week and one day. Our first “fight” (though, it’s not at all like we were yelling at each other or anything), our first trip together (driving, to boot), and some more early-relationship goofiness, something I take as a good sign roughly six months in. It’s been a while since I’ve dated someone this long, and I also took it as a sign of how much I like her that our first dust-up wasn’t the last, with me breaking it off afterwards. In fact, it just made me want to see her again and sort it out quickly. Call it a sign of maturity, I guess…

It’s still early, but despite a lot of red flags in her past (yes, I have them, too), I find myself being drawn closer to her. I still often question being in a relationship in general, as well as some aspects of being with her specifically, but I chalk that up mostly to being in recently unfamiliar territory and the naturally occurring self-protectionist tendencies we all harbor. I also ask myself about our long-term compatibility, as on paper, we’re not an obvious fit for several reasons, but I don’t ever see a ton of evidence of what someone desires in their mind becoming reproduced in reality. I think we sometimes look too hard for the ideal type, and as the saying goes, we let the good be the enemy of the perfect. Sometimes you (I) have to just realize when you have a really good thing and accept that it will come with challenges and the need to compromise, and I guess that’s where I find myself now. 

Marco Esquandoles
Learning On a Curve