Saturday, May 17, 2008

Split the Difference

I've noticed that with every relatonship I have there is always a "bone" of contention. Something that no matter how hard you try you will never agree on or to. Things that in the grand scheme of things don't really matter, but for some reason you stoutly stick to your guns.... both of you, and argue your point til the end.

I have a friend who cannot be on time. We have had many a conversation about why it is... or isn't, important to be on time. Neither of us in 29 years have changed our minds on the subject. Over time I have decided that either I give up my timeliness, or this person. I chose her and adjust my life to her schedule. Those who know of the situation are aghast that I would so willingly give in to this horrible situation! But I've come to realize she isn't going to change so I have to and it's ok.

I'm not so successful with my significant other. We have several points of disagreement. Abortion being a biggie... I pro, he con. We have had many a heated "discussion" on the topic. In fact we can barely speak on the topic. I mean really how dare he even think to disagree with me? I'm obviously right, he is obviously wrong. I must continue until he sees the error of his ways... this is so very important to me.

Our other "bone" is how to sleep. Light on....light off? TV on TV off? I can't sleep with it on he can't sleep with it off. Who is right? Why should one prevail over the other? Whose sleep is more precious?

Even arguing can cause an arguement. Our styles are different. I want to continue until it's settled, how dare you walk away before it's all done? Why should you dictate the end? I will NOT shut up when you tell me to.

I need to remember this...

My dad died about a year and a half ago. Two things that weighed heavily on my moms mind after he died were...

She wouldn't let him paint their house a bright color when he wanted to. They could never agree about color. He was colorblind and white never appealed to him. And they continously argued about the temperature of the house she 72, he 68. She said soon after he died "why didn't I just let him paint the fucking house?"

My mom never swears and it made me think...

So who cares about his opinion and mine. I'm just going to let him have the "fucking" TV on and shut up. I don't want that to weigh heavily on my mind later.

1 comment:

Dan-Eric Slocum said...

Bright, clear FUNNY. and real.