Oh, the intricacies of a relationship. Those wonderful moments that happen when no one else is around. All of my best friends are now coupled. Surely, you know what I speak of: The picking of a fight.
Even as I sit here writing this, I am completely clueless as to what the hell just happened. Our typical Thursday family dinner was...typical...light, even, The three of us finished our supper and giggled over Isabel's new Magic Trick kit. Good Sully family memories. The yooj. ("usual")
After teeth brushing, morning preparing and kid-tucking-in, it was adult time. As I settled on the couch to check my Insta, I glanced at the man-show on the tv, "What are you watching?", I asked. I was immediately met with a snarky and defensive remark from the husband. I responded. Only to be cut off with another snarky and defensive remark. "Umm...what the hell's your problem?" I don't much shy away. There was an infuriating little giggle as if to say, "Oh, you're making a big deal out of nothing." To which I replied, "Why are you trying to pick a fight?!"
Cue the cat that ate the canary look. "I'm not."
Bullshit.
Why do we do this? We're all guilty. For no reason at all, every once in a while, we just have to push each other's buttons. And who knows your buttons better than your significant other? Yep, unfortunately after more than a decade together, he not only knows my buttons but he also knows the exact sequence in which to push them and make me seethe. And vice versa.
Maybe it's a cathartic thing. Maybe we do it because we know we can. We're safe. Somewhere in our subconscious we think, "I can push and push but there's no real danger of _____ leaving." Yes, even in a healthy relationship; one of equals; one like mine, now and then, one of us has to piss on the other to establish dominance.
Gross.
Or maybe at our cores, we really are just assholes.
Or at least we can be.
The crazy thing is I love this jerk. I love that we challenge each other. I love that I can stand up to him and he to me. I love that one of the reason he loves me is because I'm strong and outspoken. (or maybe it's more in spite of...)
Love. Love. Love.
Don't let my rose coloured glasses fool you. I do love him but that in no way means that I don't want to punch him in the face occasionally.
Ain't love grand.
Vanessa Sully
Even as I sit here writing this, I am completely clueless as to what the hell just happened. Our typical Thursday family dinner was...typical...light, even, The three of us finished our supper and giggled over Isabel's new Magic Trick kit. Good Sully family memories. The yooj. ("usual")
After teeth brushing, morning preparing and kid-tucking-in, it was adult time. As I settled on the couch to check my Insta, I glanced at the man-show on the tv, "What are you watching?", I asked. I was immediately met with a snarky and defensive remark from the husband. I responded. Only to be cut off with another snarky and defensive remark. "Umm...what the hell's your problem?" I don't much shy away. There was an infuriating little giggle as if to say, "Oh, you're making a big deal out of nothing." To which I replied, "Why are you trying to pick a fight?!"
Cue the cat that ate the canary look. "I'm not."
Bullshit.
Why do we do this? We're all guilty. For no reason at all, every once in a while, we just have to push each other's buttons. And who knows your buttons better than your significant other? Yep, unfortunately after more than a decade together, he not only knows my buttons but he also knows the exact sequence in which to push them and make me seethe. And vice versa.
Maybe it's a cathartic thing. Maybe we do it because we know we can. We're safe. Somewhere in our subconscious we think, "I can push and push but there's no real danger of _____ leaving." Yes, even in a healthy relationship; one of equals; one like mine, now and then, one of us has to piss on the other to establish dominance.
Gross.
Or maybe at our cores, we really are just assholes.
Or at least we can be.
The crazy thing is I love this jerk. I love that we challenge each other. I love that I can stand up to him and he to me. I love that one of the reason he loves me is because I'm strong and outspoken. (or maybe it's more in spite of...)
Love. Love. Love.
Don't let my rose coloured glasses fool you. I do love him but that in no way means that I don't want to punch him in the face occasionally.
Ain't love grand.
 |
| I'm on to you. |
Vanessa Sully
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