I haven’t had the privilege of arguing with someone in a very long time. Some who know me might beg to differ, citing some random argument we had last week about some random topic, but I’m not talking about those arguments. I’m talking about the arguments born out of intimacy and love.
For some reason, I was thinking about this the other day, how long it’s been since I stayed up at night tossing and turning over words that were said with someone I cared about. When we were happy, I wondered how we ever got to the point of anger with one another. Then I thought about how much of a waste of time it all was. I remember in my previous relationships, the arguments we had, and when I look back on them today, all I can do is shake my head. They were so unnecessary, and I can’t say I learned anything from them, or, not nearly as much as I learned from the times we were happy together.
My last relationship was such a strain on the brain and the heart, that when we broke up, I declared a break from relationships. It’s been four years, and of course I have dated some fantastic women, and of course I’m not dating them anymore. And I laugh at that, because if there’s one thing I want in a relationship, it’s compatibility. I’m a stickler for it really, unwilling to compromise and refusing to buy into the idea that opposites do indeed attract. Not in my book they don’t. What attracts me is similarities, oneness, and so it’s what I go after, and it’s what I get, but the irony of it all is, it’s what I lose too.