For those of you that know Dave and me, you know we’re probably two of the happiest people in the world. And we credit our happy existence to our commitment to never end a fight without thoroughly resolving it. Not just to never go to bed angry, but to literally not leave a shared space until an argument is completely settled and solved.
Granted, I am typically more devoted to this rule. Dave, on occasion, has been known to try to “go for a walk” or “take the car out” or “take a long trip to South Carolina” but I never leave an argument. I won’t break eye contact with my hub until we have made up no matter how big or small the issue and no matter how much I have to pee. For example, I am currently waiting until Dave and I have made up before I sprint to the bathroom to release the buildup of urine that has been sitting inside of me for the past day or so.
Sometimes “making it work” in relationships involves being emotionally and physically uncomfortable. And no one knows that better than me because I have never gone to the bathroom in the middle of a shouting match without first getting closure with Dave. Take right now for example; we haven’t spoken since Thursday afternoon and I have been “holdin’ it” since then. I refuse to relax my kegels until my mind and relationship are at rest as well. That’s just how committed I am to this relationship.
Here’s the thing about our recent fight. It’s totally dumb because Dave was just being really distant and saying stuff like “If you make me go to Bed Bath & Beyond one more time I’ll start screaming” and “I don’t know if I can take this anymore, I just don’t know.” I know, most people would be like, “just let him take a breather and this might resolve itself.” But that’s not me. I don’t take the easy way out. Also, I just feel like if he could see things from my perspective, and see how badly I need to urinate, he would come around a little. At the moment he like is locked on to World of Poker and I cannot, for the life of me, get him to discuss our disagreement or meet my eyes, an act that would make lesser women cave and go to the bathroom in frustration.
Dave is stubborn. But I’m determined. And, while he’s stewing and staring at the TV, you better believe I’m crouched right over him, clutching my yoo-hoo, making unbroken eye contact and hoping my pee doesn’t spill out into my hands and onto his lap. Gross, I know, but sometimes you have to be willing to leak pee on your lover to make things right again. Sometimes you have to whisper in their ear, “Your refusal to resolve this has almost certainly given me a UTI.” That’s tough love. Dave gets it.
Honestly, I am resolved to holding my pee for as long as it takes. But I really would prefer if Dave just relented and fixed this up for us. Because I really can’t stand this silence and I don’t know if I can hold this flood of yellow rain much longer.
I love Dave and I love all the little flaws in our relationship, as frustrating as they can be. And, oh my God this hurts so bad.
