One early mid-October evening a romantic beach walk turns into a foot-stomping fight. In this short story, we highlight the positive side of being able to argue with the ones we love.
Beyond the horizon, over the Mediterranean sea, a softening sun shone upon angel wings spread across the sky. Feathery clouds played about, draped in pink robes dipped in golden waters. I already had a pink robe; I longed only to be dipped in the gold.
โJohn, Letโs go to the beach, and watch the sun go down," I suggested.
As we drove, I opened the car window and let the autumn breeze brush against my cheek. Silver-leafed olive trees lined the road as we took the first bend. Sunset and sea ahead, pine dotted mountains rolled behind. The beauty of our Cyprus life inspired new conversation.
John and I like to dive deep into cerebral conversation. Weโll move to and fro, over and across lines of love, spirituality, money, health, nature, dreams, family, politics, religion... Every topic interconnecting and overlapping with the next, like the way water droplets rise out of the sea as vapour, transform into clouds then cross over the harvest moon at sunrise.
John had a lot to share that Autumn day. We drove, and I listened, and listened until โฆ
There was a gapโtwo shakes of an olive tree. I opened my mouth to add to the conversation.
โAh-โ I said.
John continued to speak.
โYe-โ
John continued to speak.
โJo-โ
John continued to speak.
We pulled up at the beachfront. The sun began to sink behind the Akamas, emitting rays from behind the range and out into the heavens above. Waves washed onto the shore, kissing our toes. John stood silent, looking over the waters, his silhouette still before the sunset.
โJohn-โ
John held up his hand.
โStop. Iโm having a moment.โ
Stones clattered, rumbled as waves returned to the sea. The cool print of a breeze on my cheek turned as hot as the sunโs surface glowing before us.
โI canโt believe you. The whole way down. I canโt get a word in. And now I canโt speak. โ
My voice rose above the crashing waves and rumbling stones.
โWhat are you talking about, โCanโt speakโ.โ
โYou donโt want to hear anything I have to say.โ
John waved me away. โI just wanted one moment. I canโt do this.โ
He stormed off, leaving double deep footprints in the sand. Our golden bathing had turned into a fire engulfed sauna from the sky. I stood still as Johnโs figure grew smaller and smaller in the distance.
When I respond in anger, most times, itโs because Iโm hurt.
I pondered why I was hurt enough to respond with such anger over a small issue. Old wounds of feeling I had no voice gaped open as wide as the sea before me. The story of not having a voice that was heard and valued had been deeply embedded from a strict religious upbringing where girls were required to play a 'dignified' role in subjection to men. Speaking out, challenging, or persisting to question, especially as a woman, is frowned upon. I quote directly from the publication we'd been taught from, โShe is to be silent in the sense of not getting into disputes with a man.โ *
Learning that my voice is valued and just as important as a manโs is an understanding John and I have continued to work through together.
Learning that my voice is valued and just as important as a manโs is an understanding John and I have continued to work through together.
Johnโs body now appeared as a dot in the distance. I took a deep breath, shook my head, and laughed out loud to the clouds.
I thought to myself. My goodness. We came for a romantic walk on the beach. Now Iโm so mad with him. Heโs so mad with me. This is crazy. Think about it. Thereโs only one person on this planet that I could have this level of dispute, complete with storm-filled stamping, and know I will still have a relationship afterward. Only John.
I opened my arms, bathing in the gold. All the ethereal love shining upon angels poured down from heaven, right into my heart. Filled with love and gratitude for John and what we have together, I walked up to the car to wait for his return.
Head down, John approached the car. He looked up for an instant. Fire remained in his eyes. We both opened our car doors in silence and sat.
โCan I just say one thing to you now?โ My voice softer now.
โWhat?โ He said without looking at me.
โI want to say how thankful I am to have you in my life. I donโt have anyone else in the world I can fight with, and know we love each other enough to have a relationship afterward. Iโve only got you.โ
โYeah, well. I always want to hear what you have to say.โ
โYes, I know that John.โ
โSo, anyway, what is it you wanted to say?โ
โOh dear, Iโve forgotten now. What were we talking about?โ
We both laughed. John started up the car and we headed home, leaving the night sky streaked in orange, pink and gold.
* Reference: https://www.jw.org/en/library/magazines/w20070115/Man-and-Woman-A-Dignified-Role-for-Each/
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I agree that I fight more with the ones I love. This was a beautiful story, in the end it is the love that wins all!
So beautifully written! I felt and imagined everything!
Communication is important for a smoother and healthier relationship. When my husband and I have arguments, I choose to be silent because I don’t want to say anything that will ruin the marriage. But when emotions get calmer, we talk things out.
I believe as life marches on this happens in a lot of relationships and marriages. One partners believes the other is no longer listening and therefore feels devalued. The other partner is usually clueless that they are even doing it.
I think this is something that happens in a lot of relationships!
This is a beautiful story! Good communication is so important in a relationship!