Two and a Half Years

Brian and I are over-the-top cutesy when no one else is around.  We're that annoying couple that reverts to baby talk, and what's worse, Brian's started this new thing where we're making everything plural.  For example, instead of using his adult voice to say, "I love you, honey," he'll imitate a toddler and say, "I loves yous, my honeys."  I'm not sure why the s's have started, but I've picked up on them as well.

We don't kiss; we give "kissies."

The two of us get along really well.  Brian cooks.  I wash the dishes.  We have a system.  And he'll even begrudgingly fold laundry if I ask him to, just because he loves me.  We share a lot of the same interests (food, movies, writing) so we always have plenty to talk about and do together.  We both have lofty dreams that we aspire towards, and sometimes the realities of our current situation can discourage us.  I often have to cheer him up, and when it's my turn to be down he does the same for me.

Today marks our two-and-a-half-year anniversary, and I can't wait to be able to say "three years" when people ask how long we've been together.  I look back and I see that we've come a long way so far.  I'm impressed at our growth as a couple.  But every once in a while we'll say the things we know won't go over well... or do the things we know will hurt...  One of us will blow up, the other will turn defensive, and we'll retreat to separate corners to sit in silence and fume over how we've been mistreated.

It's so dumb, really.  Our spats occur over unimportant things, and usually surprise us both when it turns into something ugly.  For example, the other day we saw a movie which we both liked.  Brian made a comment though that it was trying to be Titanic, and I didn't really see how that was so.  He kept trying to explain himself, and I wasn't really in the mood for a debate so I was just trying to shut him down.  That made him feel like I was belittling his opinion, and before long we were walking into the house at midnight with the two of us arguing very loudly.  He slammed the door.  I said he was acting like a child.  And we both went to our separate beds without saying good night or anything.

I was so mad!  Not because of the squabble over a movie.  Who cares about that?  I got upset because I feel like we should be past that.  I thought to myself, "We've been together over two years and we still can't treat each other like we should.  We should be beyond this petty bickering.  Haven't we learned anything!?"


I've come to realize that I'm afraid of our arguments—even the small ones—because from my life experience couples who argue are couples who break up.  My mom and her second husband had a dispute over the game Twenty Questions once that resulted in Steve storming out the door on Christmas Day and not returning for a week.  The relationship was beyond strained after that and it ended in divorce.  All I've ever known is parents who've fought all the time and who eventually ended their marriages.

I have a deep fear that my relationship will end the same way.  That's why I'm so frightened when we feud over silly, unimportant things.  I want to be a super-couple so that we can survive ten, twenty, fifty years down the road!

Anyway, that silly blowup the other night was resolved very quickly.  I was alone in my bed for maybe five minutes before I came out to talk to Brian.  He cried.  I cried.  I told him about my fear of a failed relationship, and he assured me that it would never happen.  Ten minutes later he was asking for his "nighty night kissies" and the day ended happily.

So even though we are not perfect and will sometimes butt heads even when we don't want to, I guess I should be proud of the fact that we've never gone to bed angry with each other.  We've never gone more than an hour before one of us is trying to make amends.  We always forgive and forget.  I think that is where our strength lies.