The First "Fight"
The First "Fight"
The First "Fight"
After only one day of living together, my boyfriend and I had our first "argument". By argument, I mean that I was pissed and imagining heated scenarios in my head, thus further angering me while he remained oblivious to how mad I truly was.
The first thing I realized about moving in together is that you MUST unpack as fast as possible to prevent the "Where the hell is my stuff?!! AHHHHHHHH!" argument with each other, which really has nothing to do with you as a couple. Instead, it stems from the frustration of living out of boxes.
Before we moved, I warned Boyfriend not to pack like an idiot. I watched with a disapproving and nagging eye as he placed unlikely items like dress shoes and golf tees all in one unmarked box. After he was finished, I followed him with a black marker into the living room and attempted to write "shoes" as he shooed me away.
"You're going to regret this when you can't find your stuff," I said.
But Boyfriend did not heed my warning.
So on the first day of cohabitation, I received a frantic call from Boyfriend. He was getting ready for a meeting with his new co-workers and needed to look polished.
"Where are my black dress shoes?!" He demanded with a tone I hadn't yet heard in the 1.5 years of our relationship.
About 99.9% of the time, Boyfriend has a demeanor so calm that I wonder if he uses tranquilizer darts every morning.
"I don't know," I responded calmly. "I saw you throw them in a random, unlabeled box...but I don't remember which one."
"Where are they?!" He yelled.
"They might be in that box that my mom made," I said, praying they were in there so he would stop freaking out. "I think I saw you throw them in there when I was packing stuff."
"They're not in here!" He yelled. "They're not in any of the boxes!"
"Try the box with the – "
"I can't hear you!" Boyfriend interrupted and yelled.
Who was this monster, and what had he done with my sweet boyfriend who normally used calm phrases like, "We'll figure it out."?
"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm in a convertible, and it's windy."
"BYE!" Boyfriend yelled and hung up.
Tears immediately filled my eyes. Why was he so rude about something I had no responsibility for? I didn't know where he put his dumb shoes.
By the time I got home, Boyfriend had already left for his work event. He had apparently found his shoes, and I had found yet another reason to be mad. About 30 minutes after hanging up on me, he had called back to ask if I could check the iron. He thought he had left it on (which he hadn't). He had never before worried about leaving on the iron, so I took this as a sign that perhaps he really did. But going home to check the iron meant I would be super late to his work event, which I intended to meet him at later.
However, not meeting his co-workers was for the best, as I was still weeping audibly in our new apartment and was in no mood to impress people. I spent the next few hours crying in our apartment. My dramatic emotions were caused by a combination of fatigue, living in a new environment, and my boyfriend hanging up on me.
Later that night, Boyfriend arrived home. I pretended to sleep while imagining what guilt-provoking thing I would say to him.
"Are you awake?" He asked. "I brought you something to say sorry for hanging up."
My little ears perked up at the sound of a present. I opened my eyes to find a sleeve of Double Stuf Oreos. My ultimate weakness.
"I'm sorry," Boyfriend said. "I was just stressed and overworked."
I cuddled up next to Boyfriend and stared at the walls lined with boxes.
"We MUST unpack as soon as possible," I said.
And we did.