The Great Debater

I like (ok, LOVE) to debate. For years, I truly believed I was going to be a lawyer, the only career I can think of where I’d get paid for arguing with people.

I’ve lost several friends (mostly girls) because I’ve said something controversial or offensive and totally not meant it that way. I was just trying to be honest and have a healthy debate.

But despite my love of controversy, I don’t like to fight. When debating, you use your brain… you formulate intelligent points and counterpoints, and your brain hurts afterwards, but not your heart or relationship.

When you fight, you call your opponent “turd-eating idiot” and bring up the countless times he forgot to put the toilet seat down.  

And this is why I love being married to Randy. We debate a lot- football, politics, religion, whether or not to get another kitten, you name it.

But we don’t really fight.

And even when we do, I always know it’ll be ok.

I know we won’t go to bed mad.

I know he’ll hold me while I apologize in a quivering voice.
And he’ll forgive me immediately and never, ever, ever bring it up ever again.

I know he’ll ask me, “What do you need from me right now?” Because most of our (very few) fights stem from my own issues and insecurities, which he unknowingly triggers.

And I’ll blubber, “I…I…I don’t know!” and wipe the snot from my face with a crumpled tissue, and he’ll just hug me and stroke my hair.  

I know he’ll apologize when he’s wrong (which, if I am to be honest, isn’t very often).

I know we’ll fall asleep holding hands, side by side, and that we’ll wake up and snuggle and text each other “I love you” when we get to school or work.

There are countless reasons I love being married to my man. I can’t believe we’ve been together for almost seven years and married for over two of them.

What does “debating” and “fighting” look like in your life?