That being said, however, a good friend once told me to never apologize for writing about things I wanted to write about because, if I wanted to write about them, then they must be worth writing about. At the moment? I actually do want to talk about my relationship. Sorry 'bout it.
I'd be lying if I pretended that my relationship with Molly was the perfect paradise of sunshine and mutual, unyielding affection towards one another. Rarely a day goes by that we don't argue about something. It doesn't have to be important, and most of the time, it wouldn't even make "The Top 100 Arguable Topics Pertinent to Molly and David's Life" list, assuming that list actually existed.
Take for instance our conversation the other day at Molly's happy place, known as Target by those who don't know her.
Molly, holding up two blouses: "Babe, do you like this one or this one better?"
"You already have enough pink shirts. Why don't you pick out something in a different color?"
"So, you're saying I don't look good in pink?"
"That's not what I'm saying! I'm saying you always wear the same color."
"So, you're not happy with the way I dress?"
That's just one of many examples where a discussion over something completely benign resulted in me losing the right to ride in the front seat of the car. Now, I could go into some spiel about how communication is essential to the health of a relationship, but I'm gonna be straight up.
I love arguing with Molly. Absolutely, 100% love it.
Before every woman reading this, including my own, grabs the nearest appliance to throw at my clearly chauvinistic head, hear me out.
Arguing with my fiance, to me, means stability. It means that we've got a good thing going on. It's the equivalent of her looking me in the eye and saying, "I don't agree with you right now. I even don't like you right now. But I sure as heck love you right now." You're still thinking I must be crazy, right? I don't necessarily think so.
If Molly didn't love me and, more importantly, if she didn't think that I loved her, she certainly wouldn't have her hand on her hip giving me one of her infamous laser-guided glares over the color of a $12 shirt. A woman, or a man for that matter, who feels his or her relationship is on thin ice is going to think twice about picking a fight and think twice more about picking a fight over something so frivolous.
Couples in jeopardy choose their battles wisely. They argue over BIG stuff, and they hold back while they're fighting because neither really knows if the next thing that comes out of their mouth will be the last thing they ever say to the other. Molly and I, we don't have that problem. We don't bite our tongues when the other says something we don't like. When a disagreement arises, big or small, we make it a point to figure out why we disagree. And why wouldn't we? Doesn't it make sense to seize every opportunity we have to get to know more about the thing we love most on this earth? We strive to learn more about each other every single day.
That's a beautiful thing.
If we're in the car, fuming at one another, we don't conceal it. We go at it. Molly dreads car rides when we're in the middle of an argument because she knows I will pull over, lock the doors, and refuse to move until we've hashed it out. We've always disagreed with the mentality that splitting up and taking time apart to brood is an acceptable way to deal with problems, despite being advised to do so by many older couples.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not knocking anyone's relationship. Maybe taking time for yourselves to organize your thoughts and come back with a clear, viable argument works for you. For us, organizing our thoughts, formulating our arguments, that's all part of the process. Sometimes, we have no idea what the heck we're thinking.
And for us, that's okay. Our mentality? "Let's figure it out together."
So yeah, I love fighting with Molly. I love it when we butt heads. I love it when she rolls her eyes at me, when she shoots me those glances that could knock a vulture off roadkill, and even when she nails me with a laughably girly punch to the arm.
Because when it's all said and done, she knows I love her more than anyone ever loved another person, regardless of what color shirt she's wearing.
I'd be lying if I pretended that my relationship with Molly was the perfect paradise of sunshine and mutual, unyielding affection towards one another. Rarely a day goes by that we don't argue about something. It doesn't have to be important, and most of the time, it wouldn't even make "The Top 100 Arguable Topics Pertinent to Molly and David's Life" list, assuming that list actually existed.
Take for instance our conversation the other day at Molly's happy place, known as Target by those who don't know her.
Molly, holding up two blouses: "Babe, do you like this one or this one better?"
"You already have enough pink shirts. Why don't you pick out something in a different color?"
"So, you're saying I don't look good in pink?"
"That's not what I'm saying! I'm saying you always wear the same color."
"So, you're not happy with the way I dress?"
That's just one of many examples where a discussion over something completely benign resulted in me losing the right to ride in the front seat of the car. Now, I could go into some spiel about how communication is essential to the health of a relationship, but I'm gonna be straight up.
I love arguing with Molly. Absolutely, 100% love it.
Before every woman reading this, including my own, grabs the nearest appliance to throw at my clearly chauvinistic head, hear me out.
Arguing with my fiance, to me, means stability. It means that we've got a good thing going on. It's the equivalent of her looking me in the eye and saying, "I don't agree with you right now. I even don't like you right now. But I sure as heck love you right now." You're still thinking I must be crazy, right? I don't necessarily think so.
If Molly didn't love me and, more importantly, if she didn't think that I loved her, she certainly wouldn't have her hand on her hip giving me one of her infamous laser-guided glares over the color of a $12 shirt. A woman, or a man for that matter, who feels his or her relationship is on thin ice is going to think twice about picking a fight and think twice more about picking a fight over something so frivolous.
Couples in jeopardy choose their battles wisely. They argue over BIG stuff, and they hold back while they're fighting because neither really knows if the next thing that comes out of their mouth will be the last thing they ever say to the other. Molly and I, we don't have that problem. We don't bite our tongues when the other says something we don't like. When a disagreement arises, big or small, we make it a point to figure out why we disagree. And why wouldn't we? Doesn't it make sense to seize every opportunity we have to get to know more about the thing we love most on this earth? We strive to learn more about each other every single day.
That's a beautiful thing.
If we're in the car, fuming at one another, we don't conceal it. We go at it. Molly dreads car rides when we're in the middle of an argument because she knows I will pull over, lock the doors, and refuse to move until we've hashed it out. We've always disagreed with the mentality that splitting up and taking time apart to brood is an acceptable way to deal with problems, despite being advised to do so by many older couples.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not knocking anyone's relationship. Maybe taking time for yourselves to organize your thoughts and come back with a clear, viable argument works for you. For us, organizing our thoughts, formulating our arguments, that's all part of the process. Sometimes, we have no idea what the heck we're thinking.
And for us, that's okay. Our mentality? "Let's figure it out together."
So yeah, I love fighting with Molly. I love it when we butt heads. I love it when she rolls her eyes at me, when she shoots me those glances that could knock a vulture off roadkill, and even when she nails me with a laughably girly punch to the arm.
Because when it's all said and done, she knows I love her more than anyone ever loved another person, regardless of what color shirt she's wearing.
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