Friday, September 6, 2013

Honeymooners



You were my last chance to love. I will now Hate in all things and seek my vengeance upon Humanity for all the wrongs ever done to me!! You just killed the last grain of light within me. Now the darkness has begun! I hate all things because of you! The Antichrist is Here!
                                           - Terrence Howard, right before his divorce 
Dang. When I read this, all I kept thinking/hearing was: this.

And then I remembered the last fight I got into with my better half.

Back in the day,* our fights were epic. I would grab all my clothes, call a friend with a truck, and within 2 hours I'd have everything I owned (a couch, some clothes, a toothbrush, and my pillow) out of our shared apartment. A few hours would go by. I'd commiserate with my friend or cry and listen to music or write fifteen tear stained pages of love lost.

Then she'd call, like nothing had happened, and ask all nonchalant, "what are you doing? Want to go get something to eat?" Which usually led to a weekend of horizontal dancing** and me moving my stuff back in, less than 24 hours after I'd moved it all out.

Today, fights are different. They are just not as much fun when you have a mortgage...more than one couch...several toothbrushes...not to mention witnesses (i.e., kids). I mean, I'm pretty sure you cannot yell "SHUT THE FUCK UP"*** in front of an eight year old without some lasting repercussions.

And texting STFU just doesn't have the same ooomph. Plus, you can delete it from your phone, but what if they don't delete it from theirs? It's there for all eternity. And if you're famous, it ends up on Page Six. Hello, Terence Howard.

But come on...who among us hasn't felt like The Antichrist is Here! when fighting with one's beloved?

There is really no point to this post. I was just amazed and amused at Terence Howard's texts.

I've never been married. All I have is the 19 (or 18 or 17) years I've shared with the person who's made me madder than anyone ever in the history of the world. Who's made me laugh at the exact moment I want to yell "STFU!" at the top of my lungs. Who's made me cry with joy (and anger and frustration, too). Who's made me feel like "Satan Himself" and who's been "Satan Himself" her own damn self a time or two.

There have been good times and bad times. There are whole stretches of time (years even) I'd rather forget. And then I look up and wonder where the time is going and what can I do to make it better.

Life ain't easy. Relationships, less so. What are you gonna do?


***

* Neither one of us can remember the exact date we met. We can remember the year (it might've been '94, possibly '95, but for sure by '96) and what we were doing (we were both out with friends. She saw me walk across the room. She leaned over to her friend and said "that's the kind of person I could see myself with forever." True story.), but we don't have an anniversary date that we celebrate. Instead, we just randomly pick a date each year and try to make it anniversorial.

** For the record, I don't use terms like "horizontal dancing" in real life. It's just that I think my parents still read this blog sometimes...so.

** Yes, there's no logic to my thinking.

3 comments:

  1. I had something erudite to say before I browsed your sidebar and discovered OMG Shaniac got married!!1!!

    Oh, right, so, not to undermine that whole awesome-sauce, Jesus clearly equates marriage with getting laid. (Please beg your parent's forgiveness in regards to all that sexual imagery re: the size of Jesus's "bucket" and the "living water" which might burst forth.)

    What we now equate to "marriage" is simple a permanent state of that, ahem, affair. ;)

    So of course you are married, silly! :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Now that I think about it "Believe me, woman, the hour is coming" does sound like something a 1st century Ralph Kramden would say....

    ReplyDelete
  3. I love this post. It's all true when it comes to a relationship. Never easy. Always great. Loving. Upsetting. Crazy. Sane. Unpredictable.

    ReplyDelete

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