Part of me wants to send a snarky retort. Part of me wants to write a lengthy apology. Part of me wants to curl up and sleep until this whole thing blows over.
I guess, like any other event in a relationship, my boyfriend and I are going through another first:
22 February 2014 First ‘more serious-er’ argument
I was called immature and inconsiderate and self-centered. All of which was true – to some extent – in context. But I did feel somewhat like the German assassin in Archer, when her older boyfriend asks why she’s so immature and her response is, “I’m nineteen.”
Um… I’m 24.
And I’ve been stung with that fact more than once. “I can handle [these things] better because I’m 34.” has been thrown in my face by a woman I look up to when I was struggling to express myself about work, and admiring her cool demeanor. I still really like this girl, but it was sort of a slap in my ~ young ~ face.
I guess 24 is supposed to suck a lot still… after all young car rental fee still applies.
Aside from that… it just sounds like bottled up annoyances are coming to surface — for both of us. And everyone knows that the honeymoon phase of all relationships where the other one is so perfect has to end eventually (or you have to start taking Xanax).
I stand by my original assessment of our fight. I mean it’s the only thing I have to hang on to, as everything else is rocky right now, but it was a day of swing and a miss, exacerbated by LDR syndrome. Amor de lejos, man. Amor de lejos.