Fights, Cheesecake and Terrible Waitresses

Nothing is perfect. 

No one is perfect.

As much as I should know this by now, I am still so guilty of forgetting.

Shit happens. Fights happen.

But why is there this part of me that can start a fight, or participate in a fight, or perpetuate a fight, but then turn around and be so sad that the fight happened, and so terrified that it will be the undoing of the whole relationship?

If fights scare me so much, why am I not always better at picking my battles?

Why does my sensitivity overtake my rationality, and I end up crying over something stupid, or not being able to let something go, or refusing to drop a matter and pick it up later when tempers are not flaring?

Why does it take so long for me to bounce back from a fight sometimes?

Hours.

A whole day.

Multiple days.

Why are apologies sometimes not enough? What exactly am I expecting from the other person?

Childishly, I am wishing that they can go back in time and undo what they've said or done. As much as I know it's not possible, sometimes I think it's what I'm waiting for, subconsciously or not.

I heard somewhere once, that sometimes forgiveness means letting go of any hope that the past could have been any different.

I get that.

Because when something really hurts me, I do that.

I sit around moping and sulking and wishing it would have never happened. But it did, and I need to learn to accept that person who hurt me wishes just as much that they hadn't, but they can't go back in time and change it, all they can do is apologize and move forward.

I know I am no saint. I have hurt people, especially those closest to me. I've done things to people that I'm sure they wish more than anything I could go back and undo. But I can't. And I know it would drive me crazy if nothing less than time travel could soothe them.

But still, I am guilty of expecting things of others that could not be expected of me.

All the spiritual growth in the world, will never change the fact that intimate relationships are like a mirror, exposing and reflecting all of our worst traits and habits and character flaws back at us. 

I am a flawed and imperfect person, and the more I love Bill, and the further we walk down our journey together, the more both of our weaknesses and issues are brought out into the light.

It would be easy to say that it's too much, not worth it, too hard, and turn back and part ways. But no matter who else we chose, any real relationship of love and substance would expose the same ugly scars, the same bleeding hearts.

At least with Bill I'm home. I am in the arms of someone safe, who loves me even at my worst, and who can forgive me for all of my petty, persistent, stubborn and sensitive nature.

We fight, I get loud, we both get mean, things get ugly, {especially when I cry} and in the end I get scared that it all means the end. 

But the next day, we're both still there, we're both still in love, and we're both still forgiving and accepting and learning what it takes to bring our worlds together.

I wish I could let go, forgive and bounce back faster than I do.

But just like falling is a lesson in getting back up, maybe fighting is a lesson in getting over it. Getting over yourself, and putting love before anything else.

Sometimes forgiveness means giving up hope that the past could have been any different.

Amen.