Tonight was a less than perfect night for yours truly. It was one of those rare (thankfully) times in the course of a marriage where you have to take a step back, realize that no one is going to win here with emotions running high and tempers even more so, and then you have no choice but to angrily retreat to your separate rooms of the house to sit and dwell upon what has just happened (mostly how it escalated so quickly) and while it means nothing in the grand scheme of your marriage, in that moment of weakness, it means everything.
It reminds you of every seemingly silly fight that the two of you have ever had; it brings to the surface every happy memory that you can conjure up and openly weep over. You find yourself searching through the television for something heavy in unrealistic romance as if salt on the metaphoric wound will somehow make it better in some way. Or, perhaps, you just want to feel terrible, to wallow in that sadness, because it could change the outcome of the next time that you find yourself here with tears streaming down your face. Because that, in essence, is just how we work as women.
We love to feel our emotions. To have our one-sided inner monologues. To sit with the feelings and regret and sadness…while we watch our sad sack movies of love that does not go on beyond the final credits to the place where real love actually exists. Love that ebbs and flows as true love does, where couples fight and make up, and where these perfectly masculine yet completely-in-touch-with-their-emotions men are as commonplace as air. A place of sheer perfection that is rarely found in the real world where messy and human emotions live.
Even though I have -and will always be- considered a “guy’s girl” with my masculine ways of thinking and my tendencies to be rational to a fault…I never feel more female than in a fight with my husband as I sob into a Kleenex and wallow in a dream world of insanely romantic cinema.
Perhaps, if we had not watched so much of it growing up, we would not find ourselves so thoroughly disappointed at times in a relationship. We would not feel that marriage would always be this fairy tale that we were cast as the princess in. Maybe then we would know that “work” we were warned in a relationship was the mending of intentionally hurt feelings that accompany arguing with the one that you love.
Yet, the thing that could have caused us the most unfulfilled expectations are still the thing that we seek solstice in. Life, it seems, is not without a sense of irony.
Yeah, until a decade in and those differences become the sources of major (and less cute) fights. Notice how that movie skips, like, 30 years of real-life marriage? I call b.s.!
I'm just living minute to minute, hour to hour, day to day.