Tag Archives: arguments

This is not helpful, it’s control

I haven’t felt this brand of rage in a while, so I thought I’d have a go at capturing it while it still flows fresh through my veins. Basically, at the heart of it, I am angry with a man because he wanted to be helpful. He wanted to be helpful so much that he ignored me saying ‘no, please do not be helpful.’ Inevitably, no matter how angry I am at him, I am even more angry with myself. Here’s the thing…


Relationship myths: the biggest lies we’re told about love

The biggest lie we’re told about love is that the start of it is actually The End. The trial and strife and struggle of your day-to-day smooths out into plain sailing when you’ve someone beside you. You’ve walked into the sunset, and you live there now. It’s warm and calm, like the end of a summer’s day. Both of you have made it and you’re safe. The other relationship myths I’ve been told pale in comparison to this one: that love is easy, once you’re in it.


Ridiculous arguments I’ve had with my boyfriend

A long time ago on the internet, a guy called Mil Millington catalogued the arguments he’d had with his girlfriend. I have no idea how old this website is, but it’s old enough that it’s one of the first things I remember reading on the internet for ‘fun’ – before Twitter, before Facebook… even before I had a Livejournal. It’s mostly arguments about silly things like the rules of Robot Wars or how to correctly slice a kiwi fruit. And although it’s been a long time since I read it, I think it’s still percolating in my head somewhere because over Christmas I wrote the following post: ridiculous arguments I’ve had with my boyfriend.


Unscripted compliments, and knowing I’m your hero

Sometimes the best compliments are the ones you least expect. Mine came out of the blue about 4:30 on a rainy Saturday afternoon, while we were having a massive argument. Well, not exactly. We were fuming in the silent aftermath of a massive argument – each getting on with our own thing and wondering if we could pull this shit together before the evening began and we realised we wanted to be friends again.


I miss you so much when we fight

I miss you. Every morning when I wake up and see you there, I miss you. I miss you while we’re exchanging emails about the minutiae of our lives. I miss you when we sit together on the sofa, our eyes locked on the telly, to keep each other out.

I miss you when we fight.