To the men I date in the future:
I'm a runner. I mean this in the sense that I physically run and that I have a tendency to run away from my problems. Now I know this isn't the best solution to anything, but just like going out for a run, I can only lose myself in my own mind for so long. After every run, I always come home. I'll always come back to you.
This being said, I have a temper. I get angry. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, it's fiery. When we argue, a lot of times I'm going to have the typical back-and-forth with you. Other times, though, I'm going to walk (run) away. My mom taught me to choose my battles, and I used to choose them all. C'mon, go big or go home, amiright? The past few years I've learned that not every battle needs to be fought, though. Sometimes I'm going to just shrug you off and give you a shoulder so icy it's best described as a cold war.
If there comes a time where it is 11:00 p.m. and we're in the middle of an argument, I'm not going to heed my mom's advice to "Never go to bed angry." If you think about it, it's kind of funny how memory works.
My mother's warning comes from a place of hurt. You can remember the couple arguments you have with a person, but you're going to remember much more specific things about a person, like the pajama shorts someone wore to bed or the video games they would spend hours playing. Years later, you're not going to remember a transcript of words exchanged full of rage and spite.
So yes Mom I get it, you never know when that conversation will be your last. But I'm okay with going to bed angry. Going to bed angry won't cause me to say things to spite the other person. Those words will cut like knives. I'll later regret them when he doesn't brush my hair from my face as my eyes bat open, but rather he ignores my texts as he wakes up on his best friend's couch.
Dearest loved one, look. Let's hash things out tomorrow when we've both got level heads. I don't want to pull things up from our past just to level the playing field. I'm not going to keep score of our fights. I'm not going to use them as my academic research to construct an essay coupled with a PowerPoint or visual to tell you just how wrong you are. I'm not going to right your wrongs with another wrong and I don't expect you to do it either.
I don't want to fight, but rather discuss my anger or pain or whatever. Most of the time, when you think about it, you won't even make it to sleep before you realize how minuscule the argument is.
The problem? Most people have too much pride to admit the problem isn't as big as their compassion or for the person. There's a reason pride is one of the seven deadly sins. You'll each ponder about where things went south and ask, "How did we get here?"
I'll remind you that you're wanted, but I just need a minute to gather myself. I will love you unconditionally, though sometimes it may be hard to believe. Just know that if it's meant to be, I'll find my way back. And if our fights become too frequent, I wish you the best and wish you the happiness we pretended to have.