We’ve had a miscommunication. Again.
And part of my brain is worried that this will be the one that ends us. The one we can’t recover from. So far that hasn’t been the case, but that’s the funny thing about The Last Fight You Ever Have. It ends up being different than the rest, but only in hindsight.
It’s similar to how things are always in the last place you look for them. It’s not because the last place is magical or special. It’s because you stop searching after you find something.
And you stop fighting after you part ways (for whatever reason, whether it’s your choice to do so or not). So the arbitrary last time you clashed, that’s the one that becomes The Last Fight You Ever Have with that person.
This one is so small. It’s honestly kind of ridiculous. It wouldn’t have even happened if we weren’t both exhausted. And if I hadn’t fessed up a minor irritation after the fact, not because I was still upset (because I wasn’t, I’d already gotten over it), but because I hated I was hiding it from you. It felt passive-aggressive and resentful not to tell you.
But even though I said all that, you were too tired to really hear it. You heard something else.
And here we are. Doing something neither of us wanted to do.
But as we do, I notice you’re doing a better job calming down. And I’m doing a better job figuring out what to text you that’ll help (how you like to communicate when things are heated/you’re upset).
We’re 10% better at each of our sides of this than we were the last time we fought — which was a long time ago.
And if I can stop the brain weasels a-howling, I can see that the last time we fought, we were about 10% better on both sides than the time before, which was also a long time ago.
Maybe neither of us wanted to do this tonight (or ever). But we’re coming in for the softest landing we’ve ever had. And I’m so proud of us.