A lover's fight

My cheeks are hot.
My stare is pointed.
My hands tense.

Stomach is absolutely flipped.  This man is driving me mad.

—

But… Why did we have to fight? We love each other.

I stormed out the door and went on a walk. My pace is quick. My thoughts are quick. The kind of walk where each step is taken with pure drive. Intensity. It shows- I’m angry.

For twenty minutes I walk around the neighborhood. Considering ultimatums and leaving— knowing that I’m not really planning to leave.

But I would leave if we keep having fights. Right? I would leave?

And then my subconscious slows me down: Avoidant attachment style. That’s you bitch. That’s you!

Giving even one inkling that I might leave when I won’t is not right. And I do that sometimes. That’s where my fault lies.

I pray and I’m humbly reminded how it’s not just him it’s me.

I didn’t have to hit that deep. I didn’t have to bring out my claws (verbal– don’t worry. But still bad.) I didn’t have to lacerate him with my words. I regret it now.

But he poked and he prodded. He crossed my boundaries and made me feel less in control.

I try to justify and I know I am partially right and partially wrong.

He cares about you Katey. So so much.

___

Mostly who I’ve had in my life are people who love me so much they let me get away with certain things I shouldn’t. In some ways it’s held me back, in other ways it’s been comforting. It’s often what I like… it’s not always what I need.

Always having an out (and this could be emotional or financial or something else pertaining to your life) but always having one can stop you from growth in certain areas of your life. It can make you slack.

Dan sees this with me and pushes me to keep building and improving. He is someone that very much calls me on my shit. I hate it. I love it.

He sees my lack of routine in certain areas and how it hurts me and knows how deeply I want more routine there.

I’ve told him my dreams and then I punish him when he holds me accountable. I simply cannot have both.

My “but!” is the way he says it. Why does he have to say it like that? So blunt and straight to business. (He is an ENTP though which explains a lot.)

I explore the possibility that I’m just not accepting him for who he is and how he’s going to deliver news is how he’s going to deliver news but it can’t be his way or the highway. Like we both have to give a little. Yes he can be commanding but my gaw— can I not be a bitch sometimes? Like look at the shiz I just said to him.

We all have our flaws.

I tell myself— my way hasn’t always worked out. It’s in the middle where the good stuff lies. There is “good stuff” within his and my dynamic.

I need to remember we’re on the same team. He’s invested in my happiness. And I’m invested in his.

But damn he does not have to be so cut-throat! Nor so intense in his delivery.

But again—- I am at fault here too.

—-

I reflect on how I’ve always loved more assertive men. Yet when the assertiveness goes toward me I freak the f*ck out as if—- I didn’t sign up for this. (Ummmm yes the heck I did. I knew exactly what I was doing.)

Protective. A man of his word. Decisive. Assured. Bold.

Funny.

He is all of those things that I wanted. Still an asshole sometimes. And me, a brat. At times an emotional wreck. Like we are both tough to deal with yet— love baby! We choose each other.

I get home and he’s sitting on the couch. “Come here baby.”

I walk past him, still feeling salty. Get away from me.  (Avoidant attachment remember)

He hops up and pulls me close.

With his lips pressed into my ear he tells me, “I hate that we fought. But I still love you. And I love that we work things out.”

Do we? I ask him.

“Yeah baby. We work it out and you know it.” 

And I do know it. I do.

“We’re unhinged boo” he tells me. And I laugh. I laugh so hard I can’t even remember what the initial fight was about.

”Get that sexy ass upstairs and get in your alone time before we go to dinner tonight.”

*Le sigh* He knows me. And oh does he love me well.

Until the next fight ;) Rinse and repeat.